


Early Years

by PecanSandy, wallaby24



Category: Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-29 08:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 59,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13923246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PecanSandy/pseuds/PecanSandy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallaby24/pseuds/wallaby24
Summary: For the Americans, 39 degrees is just over 102. :)





	1. Chapter 1

Theresa could feel the knots forming in her stomach. She had busied herself with her studies for most of the day, but each passing hour intensified the feeling. Now she was pacing in circles, waiting for a knock at the door. She wasn’t nervous per say, not like she had been in the past. Most of those feelings had been replaced with excitement.

This was the third time Philip May had picked her up for a date. The first was a casual evening at a favorite pub with a group of friends from the Conservative association. He’d made the well-intentioned assumption that a group would provide a low-pressure opportunity to get to know each other, but her heart sunk when he extended the invitation. Groups made her nervous, and she was sure she would scare him off with her awkward attempts at conversation. In a particularly mortifying moment, she’d knocked over her cider with the nervous hand motions that so often accompanied her speech.

Just when she was hoping she could evaporate into thin air, he leaned in earnestly and said, “If you wanted a different drink, all you had to do was ask.” The wide smile that accompanied his quip put her at ease, an unfamiliar feeling when she was surrounded by so many people.

She spent the rest of the evening wondering why someone so unlike her was interested in dating her. He was at home around people, a quick wit with a contagious laugh. She appreciated his affinity for conversation because it allowed her to listen and admire him in silence. Despite his grievous miscalculation for their first date venue, her heart still quickened every time their eyes met. There was something special about him, and much to her delight, the night ended on a better note. 

“Theresa…” he said, pausing to slide his hands into his coat pocket and shuffle his feet, “I sense that wasn’t exactly your ideal date.” 

She gave an apologetic look, hopeful this conversation wouldn’t end like so many had before. “Sorry. I can usually manage a night without throwing my drink off the table.”

He chuckled softly and gave her a warm smile, “I’d be happy to have you knock some more drinks over if I could take you out again?”

For the first time that night she sensed he was nervous, something she found incredibly endearing. “I’d love to, but you might consider some waterproof pants…just in case.” 

She was rather stunned that such a disaster ended with a request for another date. Philip was different. She knew that when they first met, but one evening with him allowed her to put her finger on a few things that drew her to him. He hung on her every word, though they were few and far between, and laughed genuinely at her attempts to joke. The signs and symptoms of her discomfort in social settings could have easily been lost on anyone, but not Philip. He was considerate and unfailingly kind, two qualities that were both rare and totally irresistible to her.

The second date had been a wonderful contrast to the first. That Friday was Guy Fawkes Day, and Philip found a way onto a campus rooftop so they could watch the fireworks alone together. His planning was evident when they walked through the doors to find quilts, candles, and a thermos of hot tea with biscuits. Their conversation was easy, and when the fireworks started, he draped a blanket around her, letting his arm linger over her shoulders. She felt a shy smile spread across her face as he looked triumphantly at the horizon. 

Almost as rapidly as the fireworks went off, Philip recited the historical details of the day. She was both impressed and amused by it, and his excitement was admittedly very adorable. 

In the middle of rehashing the feud between Protestants and Catholics, he paused abruptly. “I’m sorry. I’m probably boring you to death.”

She was sipping her tea, but the instinct to emphatically deny his claim caused her to swallow through the wrong passageway. A coughing fit threw a hitch into what had otherwise been an uncharacteristically hiccup free night and she was rendered helpless by a drop of tea. Philip, obviously panicked, patted her back gently. As she slowly returned to normal breaths, his gentle pats on her back turned into slow circles. Eager to put the awkward moment behind them, she smiled to let him know she was okay. 

“Oh dear. It’s a sad state of affairs when I’ve become so boring that you’re willing to die to get away from me.”

She laughed heartily and took a deep breath. “I’m not quite sure what possessed me to breathe in a liquid, but it’s a compliment to your tea making abilities, I’m sure.” She let out a final cough and gently touched his arm, “I was actually rather captivated before my near-death experience if you’d like to continue?” 

He gave her a questioning look, a final opportunity to change her mind. She smiled back at him, genuinely interested in what he was saying and incredibly keen on observing how animated he was when he talked about history. She knew he was handsome, but his passion made him even more attractive. 

At her door at the end of the night, she could sense the tension that comes with every new relationship. Would he try to kiss her? She had considered the possibility earlier in the night, but the thought of an awkward attempt at a first kiss filled her with dread. She tried her best to push the awful scenarios out of her mind.

“I had a lot of fun, Theresa.” 

She smiled slightly, realizing his accent almost made him mispronounce her name. It was an odd thing to give her butterflies, but it did all the same. 

“I’ve thrown a drink and nearly choked to death so far, so Lord knows what calamity is in store for next time.” She scolded herself internally for being presumptuous.

“I can’t wait to find out” he said with an adorable wink that melted her heart. 

A few empty seconds returned the familiar nerves, and she glanced down at their feet. With what felt like the familiarity of an established couple, he gently placed a hand on her cheek and closed the space between them to kiss her forehead softly. He lingered for a moment and moved back slowly, still standing very close. She looked up to find his eyes sparkling and breathed a small sigh of relief. A moment she had stumbled over several times before felt so natural with Philip.

“I’ll call you soon.” He said, almost whispering. The intimacy of the moment was still thick in the air around them.

All she could do was nod and smile as his hand slid down to squeeze hers. She could feel the redness filling her cheeks, but couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed. He backed away slowly, almost as if he was trying to spend as much time looking at her as possible. He went a step too far and lightly bumped into the opposing wall, throwing him off balance and causing him to let out a surprised yelp. She bit her lip to keep from laughing as he tidied his hair and straightened his coat. She knew it was a strange thought, but it was the perfect ending to a wonderful night.

Three soft knocks at the door startled her from her memories.


	2. Chapter 2

Philip could barely contain his excitement. He found himself smiling like an idiot at a closed door. He’d made a mess of his first date with Theresa, but things were trending up and he couldn’t wait for her to see what he had in store for tonight. He swallowed his smile for a moment until she opened the door, and it bubbled to the surface, even bigger and brighter than before. She looked beautiful, and the tightness in his chest intensified.

“Hi,” she said with a shy smile and a gentle wave of her hand.

He let too much time pass because he was staring at her eyes. “Um… Hi!” he said with a chuckle and a smile to brush off his awkward pause.

He had to hug her. He wasn’t quite sure why, but before he could stop himself he was reaching for her. The reception he got was less than reassuring. She froze, and her hands landed awkwardly on his shoulders. If she didn’t already think he was an idiot, she certainly did now. What on earth was he thinking? He knew she was shy and now he’d just decided to…

His internal scolding paused when her hands moved up to wrap around his neck. She leaned into him slightly and sighed softly. His panic was washed away by overwhelming feelings of affection for her. Something told him that hugs like this weren’t easy to come by, and he took a moment to cherish it.

When he pulled away, she was smiling. When she turned back round to face him after locking her door, she was still smiling.

“Ready to go?” he said, gesturing away from her apartment.

“Of course. Where exactly ARE we going?” she said, giving him a quizzical look.

“I won’t tell you quite yet so I don’t spoil the surprise, but I will ask if you’d rather walk or take some other form of transportation. It isn’t very far.”

“We should walk. I’m fond of walking.”

He searched her face for confirmation that she really wasn’t opposed and smiled when he discovered that she seemed genuinely keen.

“Excellent! Shall we?” he offered her his arm, and she paused for a moment before happily sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow.

“So you’re really not going to tell me anything about where we’re going?” she said feigning disbelief.

“I’m sure you could figure it out. Try… rounding up the usual suspects?” He was very pleased with his reference, just vague enough to puzzle her.

She gave him a skeptical look. “I suppose I’ll just have to wait.”

“I’m sure you’ll like it. I’ve made sure there aren’t any ciders lying about just in case.” He smiled at her as a twinge of nervousness shot through him. He hoped she didn’t take offense.

“What about tea? You know how that almost ended the last time?”

Relief fell over him. “No tea because after all, if we stop breathing, we’ll die…” He threw in another hint for sport, but this time she looked at him as if he had two heads.

“Sorry. It was… I was trying… Never mind. How was your weekend?”

She let the look linger for a moment longer but it faded into an amused smirk. “It was good. I went home to visit my parents. My father is the vicar there, so I try to make it as many Sundays as possible.”

“A Vicar? How interesting. And your mum?”

He noticed a slight change in her demeanor. “She’s always stayed at home, but helps around the church… when she can.”

He could tell something was off, but didn’t want to press her. “It sounds like a wonderful home to grow up in.”

“It was! They’re both wonderful, and I’m very blessed.” She smiled at him, but he could still see a hint of something in her features. Maybe sadness? “What about your parents?” He felt her squeeze his arm softly.

“Well, my dad works for a shoe company, and my mum teaches French.”

“How very interesting, and do you… speak French?” She smirked at him obviously hoping for a demonstration.

“I picked up some things here and there.” He knew very well that his French was so abysmal, that even that was an overstatement of his abilities.

“Let’s hear something then!” she said as she shook his arm with excitement.

“I couldn’t possibly…”

“Oh please, Philip?” She gave him a look that he knew would be trouble in the future because he couldn’t find it in him to refuse her.

“Fine.” He sighed and pondered which phrase he would attempt… and probably mutilate.

“Tu rends me heureuse.” You make me happy. It was simple enough. He hoped for one of her lovely shy smiles in return, but he glanced at her to find something quite different. She was… trying not to laugh? 

“What?”

“It’s really nothing.” She let a chuckle escape.

“What did I say?” He was slightly nervous.

“It’s just… you used the feminine version of the word, which implies that…” She moved her free hand in a circular motion, telling him to complete the thought on his own.

 

It dawned on him. “I implied that I’m a woman… Excellent. Mum would be so proud of me.”

He hung his head in mock shame, but her consolation was worth the minor embarrassment. She leaned into his side a little more.

They continued walking and talking. Philip felt like he could listen to her talk for hours. The more she told him, the more he wanted to know, but the best parts were when she laughed. He made a mental note to make her laugh as heartily and as often as he possibly could.

Before he knew it, they’d reached their destination, a small movie theater near her apartment. He led her to the entrance and noticed a confused look on her face.

“This is the movie theater,” she said, obviously looking for some sort of explanation.

“That’s right. You’ll see.” He opened the door for her and helped her out of her coat as they walked inside.

“Follow me.” He led her into one of the screening rooms and to seats in the very middle of the theater.

“Nobody else is here,” she said, curiously.

“That’s the idea.” He smiled at her mischievously. “I have a friend who works here, and he worked it out to be just us.”

She smiled at him. “And what are we watching?”

“Casablanca. I remembered you saying it was your favourite at the pub.” He searched her eyes, hoping she was pleased.

“Philip… That is so thoughtful.” She looked down, something he often found her doing, always when a moment was more intimate. He wanted her to feel safe with him, to know she could be vulnerable, but she wasn’t quite there yet and that was okay. She was worth the wait. After a moment, she looked up at him with the air of epiphany.

“The quotes! You were saying quotes from the movie. Of course.”

“You’ve got it.” He was pleased that she could strike those embarrassing moments from the record. 

As the movie started, they both settled into their seats. He wasn’t paying very close attention, though. He was already making calculations on the best way to hold her hand. He didn’t want to do it too soon, but the timing was precarious.

“I love this part,” she whispered to him as her hand went from her lap to the arm rest. He saw his moment and seized it, reaching for her hand and lacing his fingers with hers. He stole a quick glance and found her smiling.

The rest of the movie passed more quickly than he wanted it to. While he was very fond of talking to her, he loved simply sitting close to her and seeing her relax in his presence. They decided to walk home as well, but this time, she took hold of his arm without his prompting. He celebrated internally, which bubbled over into a huge smile.

“So do you think you’ll eventually pursue a career in politics?”

“I’m not so sure. I want to work somewhere steady for a while and see where that takes me, but I will always be active in the party. How about you?”

“I think so. I’ve wanted to be an MP since I was a young girl, and I still do.” She looked down at her feet again. “I don’t know if it suits me though. I’ve always been… rather shy and I’m not sure I have the personality for it.”

He stopped, turning to face her square on so he could look directly into her eyes.

“Don’t undersell yourself, Theresa.” He took her hands and squeezed them gently to make sure she was listening. “You have so much to offer. You’re brilliant and compassionate. The party would be lucky to have you.”

He could see the insecurities in her bright green eyes. He desperately wished he could take them all away, but for now he just wanted her to believe that he meant what he said. He leaned in closer and placed a finger under her chin.

“I think you’re wonderful.”

They were very close now and he could feel his heart beating in his ears. He worried for a moment that it might be too soon for her, but he felt her hands move up to rest softly on his chest. He leaned forward, closing the remaining space between them, and kissed her. It was only a moment, but one he’d been waiting for since he first saw her. He’d kissed girls before, but it was never this overwhelming… never this intimate. He rested his forehead against hers and took a deep breath.

“I love her,” he thought, in spite of himself. He was certainly being ridiculous! He’d only been aware of her existence for a few weeks. How could he possibly love her? But the feeling remained.

He was reluctant to move at all, but he took a small step back, grabbed her hands, and kissed them gently. He looked back up at her, and this time, she didn’t look down.


	3. Chapter 3

She knew he could sense something was the matter. She had been quiet, even more than usual, and every time he tried to make eye contact with her, she looked away. She’d been looking forward to the Christmas ball for weeks, but it had turned out quite different than what she’d imagined.

The night started off well. Philip had come to pick her up, looking exceptionally handsome. He’d just gotten a new haircut that gave her a better view of his eyes. She, of course, had agonized over what to wear, but settled on a floaty red dress, perfect for dancing.

The prospect of going to the ball with Philip was exciting and nerve wracking. She was excited to spend time with him, but she was nervous about how people might react to them. This was their first time going to an event as a couple, and she’d already imagined a host of scenarios that filled her with dread. They were going into Philip’s element, where he became the most charming person in the room and she struggled to navigate basic conversations. If she’d spent a considerable amount of time wondering why someone like him wanted to date her, she knew the question would enter the minds of people around them. Philip had never given her cause to feel this way, but the thought of being surrounded by dozens of girls who were much more bubbly and outgoing than her made her anxious. 

Even so, she had been very excited to go. On their way into the ball, Philip had grabbed her hand and given it a soft squeeze. She felt the all too familiar butterflies as he flashed a smile at her. He didn’t let go until they’d found a group of people they knew to chat with.

Her apprehension about the night was confirmed when Philip went off to fetch her a drink. Several girls swarmed around her and inundated her with questions. What was Philip like? How had he asked her out the first time? Was he a good kisser? Though she would have been uncomfortable in any iteration of this situation, it became increasingly obvious that all they wanted to hear about was Philip. It had turned into an odd gushing session over her boyfriend where she was little more than an awkward bystander. She knew he was handsome and funny and all of the other things they were saying about him, but hearing it from them made her incredibly nervous and slightly… jealous? She was desperately searching for ways to remove herself from the situation when she felt a hand on the small of her back.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” He placed her drink on the table and slid his hand around her waist to pull her closer to him. He had only recently taken to calling her that, but like almost everything he did, it made her feel slightly weak at the knees.

“Thank you,” she said with relief as she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. She had no idea where it came from. She wasn’t usually one to show affection in public, but something about this situation made her do it. Philip didn’t seem to mind at all, quite the opposite actually. He looked pleased but skeptical, probably because they’d already had a conversation about how PDAs made her uncomfortable. He gave her a cheeky grin before he turned his focus to the conversations around them.

Watching him work a room was like watching an artist paint a canvas. He had ease and grace she could only dream of, but he made sure to include her in conversations. She could tell he was actively trying to put her at ease, and that alone made him more attractive to her than a million witty jokes or delightful anecdotes ever could. For all the raving about his good looks and charm, she knew the thing that made Philip truly special was his kindness.

In a lull, he had turned to her and asked to dance. She was thrilled at the prospect of escaping the group for a few minutes and especially excited to be alone with him. He led her to the dance floor just in time for a slow dance, which she was very thankful for.

“That’s too bad. You might not get the chance to see the full extent of my dancing abilities tonight.” He shook his head in mock disapproval. 

“Philip, I am shocked. I had no idea you were a skilled dancer.” She furrowed her brow playfully. 

“It’s not something I like to advertise. If I did, everyone here would be filled with envy and we can’t have that.” 

“Your humility is truly an inspiration to us all.” She patted him on the chest and he gave a proud grin. A few moments passed in comfortable silence before she moved her hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer so she could rest her face in the crook of his neck. It was easily the most comfortable she’d been all night.

She’d successfully blocked out her surroundings past Philips arms for a few blissful moments until she looked up at the table they’d been sitting at. Several people in the group were looking at them and exchanging glances and she got the overwhelming feeling that everyone there had just been talking about her. She averted her eyes quickly and fought the lump that was forming in her throat, squeezing Philips hand involuntarily. When the song came to an end, she decided she needed to go somewhere and collect herself. They pulled away from each other, and she could tell almost immediately by the expression on his face that he suspected something. 

“Everything alright?” He squeezed her hand.

She nodded. “I just need to pop to the bathroom.” She started to turn away from him, but he gave her hand a gentle tug, pulling her back to place a soft kiss on her forehead. She thought to scold him for a moment before he flashed a cheeky grin.

“You got a kiss earlier, so it’s only fair.” He crossed his arms indignantly. 

“I’ll allow it just this once.” A warm smile spread across her face before she turned, hurrying to the nearest restroom. Once she was safely in one of the stalls, she took a deep breath. She felt absolutely ridiculous fretting about something that was probably nothing more than a product of her imagination. Philip had given her no cause to worry that he might be losing interest. Maybe everything was fine? The sound of the door opening startled her from her thoughts.

“He is so good-looking and the new haircut only helps.”

Theresa froze, hoping whoever had just walked in would remain unaware of her presence. Certainly they weren’t talking about Philip?

“I know and so funny! I don’t even mind him being short.” 

 

She could feel her cheeks flushing with anger at the realization that they were certainly talking about Philip now.

“It is baffling that he’s settled on Theresa?”

“Oh I know! I can’t figure that one out. She’s pretty enough, but dull as toast.” 

She felt her eyes stinging with the threat of tears, but she fought them. She would have to make it through the rest of the night, and crying now would give her away. 

“Hopefully he gets bored with her soon and gives the rest of us a chance.”

The two girls giggled at their cruel joke before opening to bathroom door to rejoin the ball.

She felt slightly nauseous. Ever since he first expressed an interest, she’d worried that people would wonder what Philip saw in her. Now her fears were confirmed. What if Philip started to wonder the same? If it was so obvious to people they barely knew, was it becoming obvious to him too? She physically shook those thoughts from her mind. He’d be wondering where she was soon, so she needed to pull herself together, and fast. 

When she rejoined Philip at their table, she took her place beside him quietly. He was, of course, involved in a conversation, but when he noticed she had slipped in beside him he placed a hand on her knee. She looked up to see concern in his features, something she hadn’t expected. She’d noticed in all her time with him that he had an uncanny ability to sense her discomfort, sometimes to her dismay. She’d always been good at hiding, from everyone, but she couldn’t quite get away with it around him. She smiled, instinctively trying to put him at ease, but he seemed wholly unconvinced. She patted his hand and turned to attempt some conversation, but she could still feel his eyes on her for another few moments.

Now, they were walking back to her apartment, mostly in silence. He’d made another attempt at asking if she was okay, but she brushed him off. She had no idea how to talk to him about something so deeply embarrassing. She couldn’t just say, “Everyone thinks you’re too good for me”, but it was the truth. She’d replayed the comments in her head a hundred times at this point, and each time it stung. “Hopefully he gets bored with her soon…”

As they arrived at her apartment, she came to terms with the fact that an uncomfortable conversation was inevitable. She closed the door behind them and stepped into her living room. Philip still had his hands shoved into his coat pockets, and they stood in silence with several feet in between them for much longer than was comfortable.

“Theresa… I don’t want to be a pest, but I know something’s wrong.”

She nervously fiddled with her necklace and glanced down at her shoes.

“You don’t have to tell me, of course, but I wish you would.” He shuffled his feet. He was clearly out of his element as well.

She knew there was no use in trying to deny anything was wrong, and at this rate she may as well just be honest with him. It couldn’t hurt when she was sure he was already on the verge of being fed up with her.

“Why are you dating me, Philip?” She said it quickly before she lost her courage.

“Wh…What?” He looked extremely confused. He took a step forward to close the space between them, and probably to take her hand, but she stepped back. She had her momentum, and she needed space to get through what she was about to say. 

 

“Why are YOU dating ME.” She included hand gestures this time to clarify her meaning, but the confusion on his face remained. 

“I don’t understand.” He started to move towards her again, but stopped himself. 

“You wouldn’t, would you?” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, causing his face to fall. She took a deep breath. “You have to have noticed, Philip. You must have noticed that we are almost total opposites. You are the person everyone wants to talk to and I’m the one… the one they don’t remember exists. Everyone thinks so.” She had started pacing now, having worked herself into a frenzy. 

“Sweetheart that’s not true. Nobody…”

“YES! They do.” She cut him off and cursed the fact that his use of “sweetheart” still gave her butterflies, even now. “Trust me.” She could feel the lump in her throat again, an almost constant companion since she’d heard the girls talking in the restroom.

“Did… did someone say something to you? Who was it?” He was angry, something she hadn’t seen until now.

“I overheard someone. It’s not important who said it.” The tears were forming now despite her best efforts. “What’s important…. What’s important is that everyone was obviously thinking it. What’s Philip doing with that dull girl? She’s pretty enough, but hopefully he’ll get bored with her soon.”

She was staring into his blue eyes from across the room as a tear rolled down her cheek. She immediately looked down and reached up to wipe it away. Moments passed in silence, but she couldn’t look up at him. She felt like an idiot. Now, in addition to being dull, she was also needy and emotional. She braced herself for what was coming.

She heard his footsteps crossing the floor between them, and before she knew it, he was standing right in front of her. He placed his hands on either side of her face and lifted it to kiss her soundly on the lips. They’d kissed plenty of times before, all lovely, but nothing like this. It was almost like he couldn’t think of any other way to communicate his feelings, so they were all in this one kiss that almost knocked the wind out of her. He backed away slightly but kept his hands on her face. 

“Because I love you.”

She felt like she’d received an electric shock, starting in her chest and spreading through her arms and legs to her fingers and toes. She wasn’t sure if she was panicked or excited, terrified or ecstatic, but she did know she needed some clarification on what he’d just said. 

 

“What?” It was the only word she could muster, a great coincidence because there were millions running through her head at the moment. 

“I don’t care what anyone thinks or says, how they feel about us. I am dating you because you’re kind and compassionate and witty and brilliant and a million other things I could list off the top of my head because I’m in love with you.” He was the one worked into a frenzy now as one of his hands went to run through his hair and the other fell to his side. He moved his feet around like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself now, and finally settled with his hands on his hips.

She hated to leave him in suspense, but curse her overactive brain, she couldn’t stop thinking about the magnitude of that phrase. She’d never said that to any man, other than her father of course. In fact, she’d never even come near it. Logically, she had a hard time processing the idea that she might be in love with Philip. They’d only known each other for a few months, and had been dating for an even shorter time. And like she’d just said, their personalities couldn’t be more different. The turmoil in her mind was almost too much for her to handle until she looked up at him. With his blue eyes staring back at her, she found a way to fit all of the pieces together. 

“I love you too,” she said with great resolve. It felt totally natural to her, and it was precisely because of that she knew it was true. He made her feel calm when she was usually nervous. He made her feel confident when she was usually shy. He put her at ease when she had spent her whole life feeling out of place, and in this moment the realization crashed down on her like a ton of bricks. She was in love with Philip May. 

“You do?” He raised his eyebrows, looking both surprised and delighted. The earnest nature of his reply melted her heart and all she could do was nod.

“Gosh,” he said, looking around as if her were trying to figure out what to do next. Finally he reached out to grab her waist and pulled her into a big hug, letting out a relieved laugh as she buried her face in his neck. They stayed that way for a long time, and Theresa savored every moment of it. She felt completely safe, completely cared for, and completely loved.


	4. Chapter 4

Their bus was just out of the stop in Oxford as Theresa turned the page on the novel she’d been reading. She felt Philip’s eyes on her, but she was ignoring him with purpose. 

“I thought you were reading, Philip?” She didn’t look over at him, but an amused grin spread across her face. 

“I was, but I decided looking at you is much more enjoyable.” He closed his book and propped his face up on both hands, looking at her playfully. 

 

“You’re welcome to, but that sounds like it could get rather boring.” She settled further into her seat. 

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’ve already learned that you move you lips a little when you read. Your expressions also change depending on what’s happening in your book.” He’d gotten her attention now, and she finally looked over at him. She could see the love in his eyes, and what would normally have made her feel special filled her with nerves. And now that he was observing her so closely, she worried that he would somehow notice.

They were on the way to her parents’ house in Wheatley, something she’d hoped she could put off a little longer if Philip hadn’t been so keen. She loved him for wanting to take that step in their relationship, but the fact was it brought up something she wasn’t sure she was quite ready to face.

“Fine.” She closed her book and placed it into her bag. “We can talk.” She turned slightly to face him. 

“If you insist,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “Can you tell me about you parents? I know a little, but what are they really like?” 

He was absolutely right. He did know a little, and in the grand scheme of things, almost nothing about her parents. Though she’d tried several times, she hadn’t been able to tell Philip about her mum’s illness. She’d been determined to do it after the Christmas ball, but every time she went to open her mouth the words were blocked by the lump that formed in her throat. 

“Um…” She searched for something to say. “Well, my father is wonderful. He remains one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. He’s very kind, but he has a quick wit. You should expect him to give you a hard time.” She smiled slightly at the thought of her father making jokes at Philip’s expense. 

“Oh great. I can’t wait.” He grimaced slightly, and she reached out to pat his leg. “What about your mum?” 

Well, she has an aggressive neurodegenerative disease, and oh by the way, she’s also in a wheelchair. Sorry for not telling you before you were on the way to my house, she thought, fully taking in the ridiculousness of her current situation.

“My mum… She…She’s a…um…” Spit it out, Theresa! “She’s absolutely lovely. She’ll be there to tell Dad to leave you alone.” She took a deep breath and smiled, thankful that she’d been able to come up with something

“I love her already.” He reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers. She had absolutely no doubt Philip would get along famously with her mum. She would find him sweet and charming, that is, if he could recover from the shock and ensuing awkwardness of all this. 

They settled into a comfortable silence, their hands still intertwined, and she took it as an opportunity to lay her head on his shoulder. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and moved his arm around her so she could lay her head on his chest. Would he still want to hold her like this after finding out how much of a mess she actually was, after finding out what he might be getting himself into? She forced all of the nerves and dread out to enjoy just being with him for a little while longer.

When they arrived in Wheatley, they gathered all of their things. They’d planned to make a weekend of it, so she had a small bag. Philip, of course, refused to allow her to carry her own luggage, something she would have fought him over if she didn’t find it so unbelievably adorable. She stepped off the bus and immediately saw her father, waiting beside his car to drive them home. Theresa smiled at the thought of him finally meeting Philip. She was fairly certain now that Philip was The One and had told her parents so. This should be a happy occasion for her, but the cloud of fear was looming. 

“There he is.” She looked back at Philip, who was struggling to fit their bags through the small door. “You know I can help you with those.” She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at him. 

“No. No I’ve got it now.” He fumbled through the door and onto the sidewalk. She saw the nerves overtake his expression when he laid eyes on her father. 

“He won’t bite, Philip.” She grabbed him by the arm. “Not hard anyway.” She picked up her pace as they got closer, and met her father in a big hug.

“Hello, my girl,” he said, squeezing her a little tighter. 

“Hi, Dad.” She pulled away and led him over to Philip, who had gone slightly colorless. 

“You must be Andrew!” Her dad extended his hand to Philip. She knew what he was up to, but she let it go on for another moment. 

“Um… I.. Uh…” Philip struggled for words, and she felt compelled to swoop in and save him. 

“Dad, you know very well his name is Philip.” She gave her father a scolding look, which he smiled at in return. 

“Is it? How very strange. Well, Nice to meet you… Philip?” Theresa rolled her eyes at him. 

“Yes, sir. Philip.” He reached out to shake her father’s hand. 

Philip had offered her the front seat, probably for purely selfish reasons, but she refused saying she didn’t mind sitting in the back. Hoping to reassure him, she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, but his eyes widened, and he immediately checked to see if her dad was looking.

 

“Theresa!” Philip exclaimed hoarsely, stepping back from her to make sure there was a respectable amount of space between them. She laughed at him as he opened the door for her to slide into the back seat.

 

The ride home was short and amusing. Her father had managed to fit in a few more jokes at Philip’s expense, something Philip had been a very good sport about. With each passing moment, however, the knots in her stomach wound tighter and tighter. When they pulled into the driveway, she was sure she was going to faint. 

“I’ll grab the bags,” Philip said, hopping out of the car and making his way to the back. Theresa seized that last moment to take in a deep breath. She gathered all of her courage and followed a struggling Philip up the footpath to the door and into her family home. 

“Zaidee,” her father called out through the house. Theresa felt every muscle in her body tense. 

“In here!” a small, sweet voice called out from the kitchen.

“You can leave the bags here for now, Philip.” Theresa gave him a weak smile, and they followed her dad through the house to the kitchen. 

“There you are,” her mum said, rolling forward slightly as Theresa bent down to give her a hug.

“Hello, Mum!” She really didn’t want to leave her embrace because she knew seeing Philip’s face would break her heart.

“And you must be Philip. It is so wonderful to meet you!” Zaidee reached up from her wheelchair for Philip’s hand. 

Theresa looked up at Philip and was surprised to see no trace of shock on his face. He missed a beat, but only one, and took her mum’s hand gently. She could tell he was taking it all in, but he did so in stride, something she was grateful for. In the midst of her worrying, she hadn’t noticed that Philip had a small bouquet of flowers behind his back. Maybe that was why he was so insistent on carrying all of the bags? 

“These are for you, Mrs. Brasier. Theresa mentioned that you like daisies.” He handed her the white flowers and smiled. Theresa hoped that the floor would open up and swallow her whole. She was an idiot for not telling him, for thinking this problem would magically disappear. She couldn’t have made a bigger mess of this if she’d tried. Now, Philip was being perfect and wonderful, and her guilt was only compounded. 

“Sweetheart, you can show Philip to his room. Don’t be gone for too long, though… I’ll have my ears open.” Her father’s teasing was markedly less funny given the current situation. 

“Hubert!” Zaidee swatted at him with a dish towel.

She led Philip in silence, first to retrieve his bags and then to their guest room. She didn’t know if she could take being alone with him at the moment, but she braced herself for the awkwardness. If he found this half as ridiculous as she did, it was a wonder he hadn’t headed back out the front door to the bus station. 

“So this is the guest room.” Her timid voice filled the deafening silence. “There’s a bathroom right up the hallway for you.” He crossed the room away from her to place his things on the bed and turned to face her, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 

“Phillip… I…” Her voice cracked slightly.

He cleared his throat and looked down at his feet before crossing the room to stand right in front of her. He reached out, grabbing her arm, and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. “We’ll talk later,” he said, rubbing her arm slightly and walking past her to join her parents in the kitchen.

She stayed there for a moment to collect her thoughts. He didn’t seem angry with her, which was a relief and now he knew, in part at least. He was clearly upset. He had every right to be, but she hoped it was something that could be mended. She steadied herself, praying she could get through the dinner without making things worse. 

She returned to the kitchen to find her parents laughing heartily at something Philip said. She relaxed slightly at the sight of him. She would have to talk to Philip, she knew that, but at least she had some time before the unpleasantness occurred. She slipped in beside him.

“What are we laughing at?” She smiled sheepishly at Philip, and he gently placed his hand on her back. She could feel the tension between them, but, in classic Philip fashion, he made every effort to put her at ease. 

“Philip was telling us about the time you threw glassware at him.”

She looked over at Philip incredulously, and he immediately threw his hands up in innocence. 

“That is… a rather large exaggeration of what actually happened,” she said as Philip and Zaidee laughed together.

“Quite right! Exactly like I taught you, sweetheart. Fight off the boys with any means you have.” Her father puffed out his chest with mock pride. 

“If you don’t cut it out, Hubert, you might find some glassware coming in your direction.” Zaidee deadpanned. Philip tried his best to choke down a laugh, but it made its way out. Theresa adored her mum’s sense of humor. She didn’t joke terribly often, but when she did, they were of the highest quality. Theresa had learned to appreciate each one, knowing she would want to remember that quick wit. 

Her father feigned hurt, but managed to recover enough to give his wife a smile and a wink. “The table’s set and I think everything is ready. I’ll grab the last of the food if you’d give your mum a hand to the dining room.”

Theresa nodded before grabbing the chair handles and wheeling her mum to the table. She was, of course, capable of doing this herself, but she got tired much more easily lately, and Theresa wanted to give her a break. She felt a hand cover her own and looked down to see it was her mum’s. She fought the emotion that was rising. Her mum, sort of like Philip, always knew when something was the matter. The sweet gesture made her feel simultaneously loved and guilty. She’d spent all of her time worrying about how Philip might feel about being left out of the loop, but she hadn’t even considered that it might hurt her mum. The very thought made her feel sick to her stomach.

She pushed the chair flush with the table and gave Zaidee’s hand a soft squeeze before taking a seat next to Philip on the opposite side of the table. Her dad took a seat next to his wife.

 

“Who wants to say grace?” her father asked, looking around the table. 

“You’re the expert, aren’t you, darling?” Zaidee said, reaching out to pat his shoulder. 

“Excellent point, my dear.” He reached up to grab her hand and kissed it before reaching out with his other hand to grab Philip’s. Philip hesitated slightly and looked over to Theresa for confirmation. She nodded at him and chuckled softly as she grabbed his hand along with her mum’s to complete the circle. Hubert offered a brief blessing and told everyone to help themselves 

Theresa instinctively reached out to help her mum put food on her plate. She’d started doing this recently as her mum’s motor skills deteriorated, and he father helped, passing dishes to her. She stole a glance at Philip who, she was surprised to find, was already looking at her. He gave her a small, sympathetic smile and went back to the task at hand.

“All of this looks wonderful,” Philip said, putting some potatoes onto his plate. 

“Prepared by my own fair hand.” Hubert bowed slightly. 

“What he means to say is that he carried the pot of water to the stove,” Zaidee corrected him. 

Philip chuckled awkwardly, obviously conflicted over whether or not to laugh at a man who clearly scared him half to death. Theresa found their dynamic very heart warming. She knew her father wouldn’t tease someone he didn’t like, and she knew Philip wouldn’t endure it quite so jovially if he loved her any less. A loud clattering sound broke her concentration, causing Philip to flinch. 

Her mum had tried to grab her fork, but dropped it over her plate causing some food to land on the table. Theresa jumped to action, wiping it away and returning things to their proper place. 

“It seems my hands aren’t quite so keen on listening to my brain. Sorry…” Theresa felt a pang in her chest, but this time it had nothing to do with Philip. She hated seeing her mum, once a force of nature, unable to use utensils properly. She would be fine after a few moments of resting her hands, but every time the symptoms reared their ugly head, Theresa was reminded that her mum was, in fact, sick. Very sick.

Sadness washed over her in waves, but she smiled in spite of it. She had to be strong. Philip reached over below the table and placed a reassuring hand on her knee. She had to swallow her tears now. She couldn’t look up at him because she would surely start to cry, but she placed her hand on top of his and gave it a squeeze. She would never get used to Philip’s extraordinary kindness, especially now when she didn’t feel she deserved it.

The rest of the dinner went off without a hitch, and she was thankful. Philip handled himself incredibly well; she would have expected no less. 

“I’d be happy to do the dishes,” Philip said, stretching back in his chair to relieve his full stomach. Her mum started to protest, but Philip insisted.

“I’ll help you,” Hubert said with a devilish smile, collecting the dishes from the table. He used his free hand to slap Philip gently on the back.

“Be nice, Dad,” Theresa said as Philip looked over his shoulder at her to mouth the word “help”. She giggled as she walked around to grab her mum’s chair and wheel it into the sitting room.

Theresa settled on the sofa beside Zaidee and smiled at her softly. She wasn’t really sure what to say because she wasn’t really sure what her mum knew.

“I like him very much,” Zaidee said emphatically. Theresa felt relieved.

“Me too.” 

“How much does he know, sweetheart?”

Relief turned to nerves and she looked down anxiously at her hands.

“I thought so.” Theresa wished she could evaporate. 

“I tried… to tell him. A few times, actually…. but…” The tears were coming now, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop them this time. 

“I know, sweetheart. It’s all right.” Theresa felt the familiar hands of her mother reach up and wipe away a tear that had escaped.

The truth was that her inability to speak about her mum’s illness had almost nothing to do with Philip and everything to do with her. She had spent the early years after the diagnosis in denial that it was happening, but as Zaidee became more and more symptomatic, denial became an impossible option. Theresa had watched in terror as her mum started struggling to walk, all culminating in the awful day she came home in a wheelchair. She spent that night sobbing to the point of sickness as Zaidee stroked her hair. She felt foolish now, a grown woman who couldn’t manage a conversation with her boyfriend, but she couldn’t seem to string together the words, “My mum is sick.”

Theresa reached up for her mum’s hand and placed it in her lap, fiddling with her rings. She looked up to see eyes full of love for her.

“If he’s as special as he seems, he needs to know.” She squeezed Theresa’s hand. “Your father…” Her voice cracked with emotion. “Your father and I have always prayed for someone like Philip, someone who is kind and strong, someone you can lean on.”

“Well I hope I haven’t ruined all of that,” Theresa said, wiping the rest of her tears away. 

“Oh, sweetheart. That man very clearly adores you. Nobody in their right mind would endure your father’s interrogations over dishes if they weren’t hopelessly in love with you, and love can cover a multitude of sins.” Theresa smiled at the reference to 1 Peter, one of her favorites. 

“Let’s just hope it can cover whatever Dad is subjecting him to right now.” They laughed together. “Can you tell I’ve been crying?” Theresa asked, knowing the answer. 

“Honestly, yes, but there’s not much you can do about puffy eyes now, is there?” She had to admire that trademark honesty.

“Who wants tea?” her dad said, walking into the room with a tray. Philip was a few steps behind him, looking slightly traumatized. He settled beside her on the couch taking in her face that was probably blotchy and swollen. He looked very concerned, but he didn’t react further.

The rest of the evening passed happily. Watching Philip chat easily with the two people she loved most in the world, other than him, of course, made her heart soar. She saw her future right there in that room, and her love for him grew by the second.

“I think it’s probably time for me to turn in for the night,” Zaidee said, looking over at her husband. He agreed hopping to his feet and stretching his arms. Theresa and Philip both stood to say goodnight to them. Philip leaned down to give her mum a hug.

“Thanks so much for having me,” he said, giving her a warm smile. He hadn’t quite gotten to that level of warmness with her father, however, reaching out to shake his hand instead. “Sir,” he said with a nervous gulp.

She kissed her father on the cheek, and paused for a moment. Theresa was very aware that she was moments away from a conversation she’d been dreading for months, but she forced it into the back of her mind. Now, she wanted to focus on kissing her mum goodnight, something she knew she would be able to do fewer times than was just. 

“You two have fun,” Zaidee said with a cheeky grin.

“Not too much fun!” Her dad gave them a stern glare as he pushed her mum’s chair down the hallway towards their room. Hubert leaned down as he walked and placed a kiss on the top of his wife’s head. Theresa watched them fondly, hoping that she would one day have a similar relationship with… Philip. His name went so naturally at the end of that thought, and she felt the weight of it immediately.

“Theresa.” His voice pulled her from her thoughts. He took a seat on the sofa, and she joined him, looking down at her hands again. When she finally worked up the courage to look up into his eyes, she found worry and sympathy rather than the anger she certainly deserved. She tried to speak, knowing it was a non-starter.

“Philip… I know… I should…” She drew in a deep breath, but all of the emotions she’d been fighting the entire day rose to the surface, and a sob escaped her lips. He immediately pulled her to his chest as the sobs came faster and harder to the point where she was almost shaking. She clung to him for dear life as he rubbed her back and whispered that he loved her.

“I’m… so… sorry.” Her words were punctuated by sobs as she tried desperately, and failed, to stop them.

“It’s all right, love. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He was almost rocking her now, randomly placing kisses in her hair as she wept.

Eventually, she was able to regain some semblance of composure, but she didn’t want to leave his embrace. She lifted her head to look up at him, and he reached up to brush her hair from her face, placing a soft kiss where it had been.

“I’ll get you a glass of water.” He jumped up, practically running to the kitchen. She took the opportunity to wipe her tears. She was sure she looked an absolute mess now, but he’d already seen the worst of it. She had never cried like that in front of anyone other than her parents. It was completely out of character for her, and she felt totally exposed and vulnerable. Oddly enough, she also felt totally safe with him.

“Here we are,” he said, handing her the glass and taking the seat beside her. He placed his hand on her back again, rubbing slow circles as she took small sips of water. She took a deep breath to make sure everything had passed before turning to face him again.

“Philip…” She reached out for his hands. “I really want to apologize for all of this. I should have told you. I tried to tell you. But…” The tears were there again, this time without the sobs, so she charged on. “I hate talking about it. I hate even saying it out loud.” He reached up to wipe her tears away, and she leaned slightly into his hand and steadied herself. “She’s sick, Philip. My mum is really sick, and she isn’t going to get better.”

Each word was like a punch in her stomach, but there was something cathartic about saying them to him, someone who told her every single day that he loved her with word and deed. He nodded silently and pulled her into another hug that gave her the strength to continue. She pulled back reluctantly so she could see his face

 

“She has Multiple Sclerosis, MS for short.” She sniffed involuntarily saying the name of the thing she knew would take her mum away from her. “She’s had the diagnosis for a while, but it was sort of dormant in the early years. It does that sometimes; you think everything is fine before it gets worse.” Her tears were flowing freely now and so were her words. She’d been bottling all of this up for so long, unable to tell anyone, but now she couldn’t seem to stop. “The chair was…” She paused to steady herself. “The doctors told us they were only necessary in very severe cases, and… tend to be a sign of rapid deterioration.”

Philip cleared his throat hard at the phrase “rapid deterioration”. His hands were gently massaging hers as he listened intently. He had been trying his best to conceal his emotions, blinking away tears when they’d appeared in his eyes, but she was immeasurably grateful for his patience with her. She knew he was dying to talk, dying to reassure her, but he let her go at her own pace without interruption. Now she’d made it to the worst part, and she almost wished for an interruption.

“We’ve gotten a few prognoses, some longer than others, but none as long as they should be… as long as I want them to be…” The sobs came back in full force this time, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to go on. Her breathing was ragged, and Philip pulled her onto his lap, holding her head to his chest. He just sat there silently, letting her weep into his shirt for the second time that night.

She’d dreaded this conversation in part because she worried about what Philip might say. She’d already heard every phrase in the book from well-intentioned family friends and neighbors. “It will be all right.” “She’ll pull through this.” “God only gives you as much as you can handle.” They’d played over and over in her mind, tormenting her. In reality, it wouldn’t be all right, her mum wouldn’t pull through this, and she certainly didn’t feel like she could handle losing the person who’d rocked her to sleep, kissed the scrapes on her knees when she fell down, and loved her unconditionally for her whole life. None of this was fair, and she couldn’t be patronized into believing it was with tired platitudes. But… Philip, as always, was different.

“Theresa, I’m going to be here for you.” He held her tighter. “Don’t ever worry that you have to go through this alone.” His words were like a balm for her broken heart. “And I understand why you didn’t tell me. I know this must be…awful for you to talk about.” His voice was thick with emotion. “I never want you to feel like you can’t come to me to talk about… anything really. I love you, and I will always be here to listen,” he paused, placing another kiss in her hair, “and hold you.” She looked up to see him smiling, and she craned her neck to give him a tearful kiss.

“I love you so much,” she said, completely overwhelmed with affection for him. No matter how hard things got, no matter how awful reality was, she would always have Philip. The realization lifted a weight from her shoulders, and for the first time in a while, she felt light. She laid her head on his chest again, this time taking in the slow and steady beats of his heart. She relaxed completely in his arms, safe in the knowledge that he would always be her protector, her shield… her rock.


	5. Chapter 5

“Thank you for such a lovely dinner,” Theresa said as they walked quickly back to her apartment. Philip had taken her to one of Oxford’s top restaurants for Valentine’s Day, a fine French establishment where neither of them had quite been able to read the menu.

“Did you enjoy your…whatever it was they brought you?” he asked, a smile in his voice.

“Yes,” she said, giggling. “I did, and it was fun to go somewhere so nice.” They’d both dressed up—the occasion had given her another opportunity to wear the floaty red gown from the Christmas ball, and she’d liked knowing that she was spending Valentine’s night in the dress she’d been wearing when Philip had first said he loved her. “I think I’m looking forward to this next part of our evening even more, though.”

“Because you’ve made something amazing for us?” Philip asked. She’d promised to make them dessert, which they’d be sharing when they reached her apartment.

“No—that is, I did, but…I’m mostly looking forward to being alone with you,” she said shyly, feeling her cheeks grow pink. She’d learned in the last couple months that the only thing nicer than a hug from Philip was when they sat on her couch together and snuggled all evening.

Her boyfriend’s arm was already around her, but he squeezed her gently. “I’m looking forward to that part, too. You were so far away on the other side of the table.”

The street was empty enough that she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Will you tell me yet what you’ve made?” Philip asked a moment later.

“No. It’s supposed to be a surprise.” He sighed dramatically, and she relented slightly. “All right, I’ll tell you this much: it has to be eaten straight out of the oven. So I have to do the actual baking when we get home.”

“That…tells me nothing,” he said, and she laughed. “Other than that it will be warm. I’m all for warm right now.”

It was just above freezing, and it was raining, a classically miserable English winter night. “You’re getting a bit wet,” Theresa said, eyeing him carefully. Philip had insisted on holding the umbrella, which wasn’t quite big enough for two and which was almost entirely over her.

“Yes, but you’re not. And that’s the point, really. I want to keep you warm and dry and not sick.”

“Well, I don’t want you to get sick either.”

I,” said Philip with dignity, “am very tough and strong.”

Theresa bit her lip to keep from laughing. She’d had no experience with a sick Philip, but something about him suggested to her that he turned into a helpless infant at the slightest runny nose.

They soon reached her apartment, where she popped the chocolate molten lava cakes in her oven, cooking them until they were not-quite-done with still-gooey centers. Their perfection earned her several satisfied kisses from Philip, and the couple ate quickly so that they could move on to the far-more-important business of each other.

“You,” he said, drawing back from a soft kiss once they were seated on the couch, “are even more delicious than that cake.” He kissed her again, and she responded readily, their lips slowly exploring each other’s.

Theresa felt his tongue run gently over her bottom lip, and she parted her lips readily, hungry for him. They’d kissed this way before, and she liked it. She liked it a lot.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to be closer to him and feeling a slight, internal tug deep inside her. His hands were everywhere at once now: in her hair, against her cheek, running up and down her back, and she shivered at his touch, though she wasn’t cold.

No, cold was the last thing she was: she felt as though molten lava were pouring over her.

His right hand was traveling up her side now, starting with her hip and then progressing up to her ribs…then finally cupping her breast. Her skin tingled as his thumb stroked lightly over her breast, her body tensing in a not-unpleasant way.

This was…wonderful, but…she…they shouldn’t…but…

Then she felt his hand squeeze slightly, and the pressure jolted her awake.

“No, Don’t!” Theresa exclaimed, shoving his hands away and leaping to her feet.

She took in his appearance as she tried to reclaim her breathing. He was red-faced, his hair completely disheveled. Oh, she did love his hair. It was so soft to run her fingers through and… 

Snap out of it, Theresa! It was unlike her to be so…so…she wasn’t actually sure what she was right now, but she did know she’d obviously taken leave of her senses. 

 

“Theresa,” he said, tidying his hair and his tie, “I am so sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I didn’t…” he trailed off, scrubbing his hand over his face in frustration. His breathing was still slightly ragged, and he obviously had no idea what to say.

The silence between them was painfully awkward. She didn’t know how to feel, really. She’d enjoyed all of it, all of it, but something felt wrong. Everything she’d ever heard about physical intimacy popped into her head at once, sermons from church, stories from her friends, talks with her mum. It was almost too much to process.

She knew she’d left Philip in suspense for too long. He looked like he was ready to throw up at any moment. 

“It’s all right, Philip. I’m not upset. I just…” She took a seat beside him, leaving a considerable amount of space between them. “I don’t think I like that,” she said, immediately aware of how incredibly incorrect that statement was. “What I mean to say is… I did like it, but I don’t think we should… at least not yet.” She was rambling now and felt so incredibly awkward having this conversation. “I don’t know. This is all very confusing.”

It was confusing. Theresa had always been sure she would save herself for the man she married. It was something she’d considered a great deal and something she still believed in. But this wasn’t the same as sex, obviously! So why did she feel so guilty?

 

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m so sorry.” She was taken aback by how awful he seemed to feel, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. She scooted closer to him and took his hand. 

“Philip. It’s really okay. You have no reason to be sorry.” He finally looked up at her, and she gave him a reassuring smile. “Besides, this conversation is probably overdue.” She steadied herself for what would certainly be the most awkward conversation she’d ever had, quite the feat considering her track record. “Philip, we need to talk about… about boundaries.” She nearly rolled her eyes at herself. 

“Of course,” he agreed in earnest, but he didn’t seem to know how to proceed.

“I… I’ve always thought, that is I’ve always known, that I would save myself for marriage.” She felt a jolt of nerves shoot through her, but she had momentum now and pressed on. “I know it might make me a stick in the mud, but I want to honour God with this part of my life, and I hope you can understand that?” The last part came out as a question, but she knew this was something she didn’t want to budge on, something she couldn’t budge on. 

“I do understand,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I understand, and I want to apologize again. I know you said you aren’t upset, but it obviously bothered you. I shouldn’t have touched you anywhere I didn’t know for certain you were comfortable with. I want to honour God with our relationship too, but that means I honour you as well.” His free hand went up to the back of his neck, his eyes trained on the floor. She squeezed his hand, and he looked up at her, his kind eyes looking for reassurance.

“You do honour me, Philip, and you love me so well. We both got carried away, which is bound to happen at some point.”

“You’re certain?” She nodded and leaned forward to give him a peck on the lips. He smiled warmly in return.

 

“I never thought it would be this difficult. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this way about someone.” She was out on a limb here, but it was entirely true. When her mum told her it might be difficult to make it to her wedding night, she had scoffed in disbelief. At that point she’d kissed boys, all fine, but nothing to write home about… until Philip. Everything was different with Philip. He made her feel comfortable and cared for, safe and loved. Everything about him drew her in, and now she fully understood why it might be difficult to make it to her wedding night. Then she remembered the next part of her mum’s sage advice. “But it’s worth it.”

“I feel the same way. I am so attracted to you, but I never want to make you feel uncomfortable or like I’m pushing you to do things you aren’t ready for.” He was looking into her eyes now, making sure she knew he meant what he was saying. “We have the same goal, so I’ll take your lead.” Her heart felt like it could burst at any moment. She’d worried about this conversation, worried that he may feel differently, but as always, he exceeded anything she could ever expect. 

 

“It’s you saying sweet things like that that makes you really irresistible to me,” she said. “You know that?” He laughed, a sound she loved more than anything. 

“Noted. Going forward, I will be as mean to you as I possibly can,” he said, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her hand. 

 

“It seems like you’re off to a great start, duck.” She used her free hand to tousle his hair.

“And while we’re making demands, I would also like to note that this would be a lot easier for me if you weren’t quite so hot.”

Theresa almost choked. She’d never really thought of herself that way before. She knew she was acceptable in terms of appearance, but hot? She felt her cheeks flush. “That’s right, Brasier. You’re hot. I have a hot girlfriend.” He leaned back and crossed his arms, an incredibly smug look creeping its way onto his face.

“Well you’re not so bad yourself, sir. I have it on good authority that every single girl in the OUCA would love a chance to run their fingers through that hair.” She pulled her own smug look.

“I do hope that isn’t my only alluring quality. I’m afraid this might have a shelf life given what my dad looks like.” She had to laugh at the thought of a bald Philip.

“Your dad is bald?” She donned a skeptical look.

“Quite. All of the men in my family are, so you better enjoy it while you can.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her causing her to laugh. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll love you no matter how much hair you have.” She knew that statement implied a great deal, that they would still be together when he lost all of his hair, but she didn’t mind.

“This is good news. Now I can get that mohawk I’ve been thinking about.” 

“Oh. I’m not sure our love could survive that, actually,” she said, with a slight grimace. He gasped and placed his hand over his heart, feigning hurt.

“I thought I was the one who was supposed to be mean.” He reached up to wipe away a non-existent tear.

“Don’t worry. It’s my tactic for becoming less hot.”

He leaned forward to examine her closely before shaking his head. “Hmmm… Nope, still very hot. You’re going to have to try harder.”

She swatted at him playfully before leaning into his side and placing a kiss on his cheek. She laid her head on his chest, his arm settling gently over her. Maybe it would be hard to wait for someone she already loved so deeply, but with Philip, she knew it would be worth it.


	6. Chapter 6

Philip was on his way to Theresa’s apartment carrying an armful. He’d envisioned a slightly different evening than the one he was heading for now, but he didn’t mind. Theresa had called earlier that day to cancel their plans for an evening out. She’d told him she had a bit of a cold and not to trouble himself, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her trying to cook and manage for herself while feeling poorly. So, he’d picked up some soup and tea, determined to make her feel better. 

He knocked a few times on her door, expecting a slightly sickly version of his girlfriend to answer, sporting a reddish nose and droopy eyes that he would find adorable. What he got was quite different.

“It’s open,” a hoarse voice called from inside. He pushed the door open timidly, wondering why Theresa hadn’t answered. Then he saw her.

She was extremely pale. It was the first thing he noticed. Her usually bright eyes were dull and glassy, her usually rosy cheeks ghostly white. She was curled up, almost in a fetal position, on her sofa, clutching a bottle tightly. Panic shot through him from head to toe. This was quite obviously not a bit of a cold 

“Theresa…” All he could manage was her name as he ran to her, tossing everything in his hands onto the coffee table. What on earth was wrong? How could he make it better? He fell to his knees in front of her and brushed the stray hair from her face.

“Philip,” she said, slightly strained, “I thought I… You didn’t have to come.” She tried to reach for his hand, but immediately drew in a sharp breath and reached for the bottle she was holding. She was clearly in a considerable amount of pain, and his heart shattered into a million pieces. 

“Never mind that, sweetheart. Are you… What’s wrong?” He felt like an idiot asking if she was okay, because everything about her practically screamed the opposite.

 

“I’m fine. It’s just… It’s cramps. I have really bad…cramps.” She seemed frustrated having to say it, almost embarrassed? He wasn’t sure why until he put the pieces together: her period. That made sense to him because he’d grown up with sisters…but his sisters had never looked anything like this.

 

“Okay. Cramps. But this doesn’t seem right, darling. Do I need to take you to A&E?” He didn’t want to push the boundaries too much, but he couldn’t contain his concern as she winced in pain. 

“No! You don’t!” she snapped. He drew back slightly, and she gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry… I just…”

“It’s all right, love.” He cut her off, refusing to hear her apologize about anything in this state. “What can I do to help you?” He was practically begging for a task, something that would alleviate what she was feeling. Help was all he wanted to do right now, anything to help her.

“Philip, you don’t have to do this.”

His face fell. Did she think he felt obligated to help her? Did she think it was an imposition? The very notion troubled him deeply.

“Theresa…” he breathed out, stroking her hair gently, “Of course I don’t have to. I want to. I want to do anything…anything I can to make you feel better.” Her face softened at his words, and he knew he’d found his way past one of her carefully constructed barriers, the ones she built to keep her vulnerability hidden. He gave her a pleading look, and she relented. 

“My water bottle’s gotten cold and I don’t know if I can go to the kitchen…” She attempted to sit herself up, but her face immediately indicated to him that she was in serious pain. 

“You don’t have to move, sweetheart. I can handle it. Just lie back down.” He reached for the water bottle against her stomach and placed a kiss on her forehead before heading to the kitchen.

Philip made quick work of putting water on to heat and took a moment to compose his thoughts as he waited. He was well-versed in the usual inconveniences of a period. His mum had told him all about it in preparation for living with his sisters during their time of the month, but their periods had never been debilitating. Was there something else going on? He resolved to wait for Theresa to tell him. If there was one thing he knew about her, it was that she needed time. She would tell him when she was ready.

He refilled the bottle with the piping hot water and walked quickly back to the living room. Rounding the corner from the kitchen, he took in her appearance and felt his heart tense again. She looked so small.

“Here you go, love.” He handed her the water bottle so she could pull it close to her stomach. Her relieved sigh was beautiful music to his ears, and he allowed himself to relax slightly, but only slightly. “What else can I do?”

“You don’t have to…” She paused and changed course. “Could you…could you just sit here with me?” It was the easiest question he’d ever answered.

“Of course, darling.” He settled onto the floor beside her. 

 

“Oh I meant…with me…up here.” 

“Right! Of course!” He jumped to his feet immediately. “Um…” He paused slightly, wondering how this was going to work.

“I can sit up,” she said and began slowly doing so.

“Wait, wait,” he said quickly, reaching out for her immediately. “Let me help you with that.”

“I could do it on my own,” she said, but with no real conviction, and she was leaning heavily on him as he slowly eased her into an upright position.

“Is that all right?” he asked.

She nodded. “Now sit down with me.” He took a seat next to her, sitting sideways on the couch so that he was facing her, one leg tucked under him. Then he held his arms out for Theresa, and she immediately curled up against him, resting almost completely against his chest, her water bottle tucked against her stomach. Philip wrapped his arms around her and placed a kiss in her hair.

She felt tense at first, but as time passed, she seemed to relax into him, burying her face in his chest. “This is the most comfortable I’ve been all day,” she mumbled into his shirt. He was glad to hear it but knew it couldn’t have been a very high bar. 

“I’m so glad, my love. Just tell me whatever you need, and I’ll do it.”

 

“I’m just glad you’re here.” So was he. He was so thankful he’d decided to come over, because the thought of her alone and in this much pain made him feel ill.

They stayed that way for a while, almost totally in silence. The only exceptions were when he whispered that he loved her. Her pain was still evident (though she tried to hide it) when she occasionally tensed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in the process. He felt extremely helpless, but if there was one thing he knew he excelled at, it was holding her. She seemed as content as she possibly could be, so he allowed his mind to rest for a bit.

“The water’s cooling again, dove. Should I go refill it?” He didn’t want to make her move again, but he knew the water bottle helped. 

“I am so comfortable, but that would be wonderful.”

“How about a cup of tea? I brought ginger lemon. I also have soup?” He wondered immediately if she could keep anything down in this state. 

“Tea would be lovely, actually. Ginger always settles my stomach.” He celebrated his foresight internally. Even though he hadn’t really expected this, he’d chosen an herbal tea to help with her cold.

 

Once he got her settled on the sofa by herself, he busied himself reheating the water for her bottle and with putting a kettle on for tea. He returned to her, tucking the water bottle against her stomach and giving her a kiss on the forehead, before returning to the screaming tea kettle. While he prepared the tea, he wondered how often Theresa had to do this? How often did she have to curl up on her couch in pain? How many times had she had to do it alone? 

“Here we are,” he said, carrying two cups of tea into the living room. “It’s very hot, so be careful.” He knew he was hovering, but he couldn’t help himself. She smiled again softly and blew on her tea as he took a seat beside her. He placed his arm on the couch behind her, and she leaned into his side, sighing slightly.

“This is wonderful,” she said, sipping her tea, “I’m… I didn’t mean to spring all of this on you. I should’ve told you before…” She trailed off before taking another sip of her tea. He could see that she was nervous, and he pulled her closer. 

“I understand, sweetheart.” He kissed the side of her head, knowing exactly why she’d kept this, something so deeply personal, to herself. A few silent moments passed between them, and he looked over to see what looked like the beginnings of tears in her eyes. His chest tightened immediately. “Oh sweetheart, what is it? Are you hurting?” She shook her head in response and placed her tea cup on the side table. 

 

“Philip… I have…” She was struggling to find the words, but he didn’t mind waiting. He knew she usually needed time to think about what she was going to say, and he had grown to love that about her. She always considered more than she spoke, which made her words even more precious to him. While she thought about how to proceed, she reached for his free hand, fiddling with his fingers nervously. Then she took a deep breath, signaling to him that she was ready to push forward. “I have a disorder…it’s called Stein-Leventhal syndrome. That’s what causes this. It makes my cycle irregular sometimes and gives me terrible cramps and pain, sometimes not this bad and sometimes…worse. There are other symptoms, but…” Theresa sniffed slightly and stopped her explanation short. He knew there was more, but he didn’t want to press her. The rest could wait.

Everything he thought to say seemed inadequate as she sat there beside him, probably still in terrible pain. “You,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips to kiss it softly, “are so incredibly strong.” She broke eye contact, looking down slightly, but he placed a finger under her chin, lifting it so he could see her eyes. “But you don’t have to be all the time.”

He studied her face again, taking in her pale complexion and glassy eyes. He knew it seemed paradoxical, because this was certainly the worst he’d seen her look, but he was struck by how beautiful she was to him in that moment. He admired so many things about her, but her quiet strength fell near the top. She always seemed to push on no matter what, even though life had dealt a tougher hand than he wished for her. She was an unstoppable force, determined to get on with the task ahead, and he loved her so much. 

“And in that vein,” he continued, “is there anything else I can do to help?” His insistence on helping her earned him another smile, though this one covered the pain that was obviously back now as she winced slightly.

“My mum would sometimes rub my lower back?” she said shyly, almost with the inflection of a question.

“I can do that,” he said hastily, thankful for a concrete task that could give her relief. 

“You’re certain? You don’t mind?” 

“Of course I’m certain, love. I don’t mind at all.” Philip longed for a day when she’d realize that he would go to the ends of the earth for her without a second thought, but for now, he’d settle for a simple act.

They both turned so her back was facing him, and he worried for a moment that he could hurt her. She’d seemed so fragile all day, and the thought made him nervous.

“You’ll let me know if it’s too much? If I’m hurting you?” She nodded in response, giving him an appreciative smile.

He placed his hands above her waist, pressing his thumbs into her lower back and moving them in small circles.

“Is this okay, love?” He hated to pester her, but he wanted to be certain he was, in fact, helping.

“The pressure helps, darling. You’re not going to hurt me.” He hesitated slightly and pressed harder.

“Is that better?”

“It’s perfect,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. He smiled slightly at hearing the relief in her voice and continued on. He got hints of her relief every so often: a slight sigh or murmur let him know she was relaxing at his touch, and her muscles seemed to loosen significantly over time. It was the most useful he’d felt all night. All he wanted was to make her feel better, and this seemed to be doing the trick. 

After some time, Theresa settled in further, laying her head on the back of the sofa. He could tell she was dozing off but fighting sleep when her head slid forward slightly and jerked back.

“You can sleep, sweetheart. It’s all right.”

“Mmhmm…” She sounded too tired to form full words. He wondered to himself if she’d slept the night before. How did she sleep at all when she was in this much pain? The thought returned the now-familiar tightness to his chest. 

 

When her breathing evened out, he decided it might be best for her to lie down. He made sure she was settled before popping to the kitchen to heat her water bottle again, returning to find her exactly where he left her. She looked so peaceful that he hated to disturb her, but he wanted to put the hot water bottle back in its place and give her the option to lie down.

“Theresa…sweetheart…” he whispered softly as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. 

 

“Hmmm?” she murmured, before tucking deeper into the sofa. He smiled, partly because she was incredibly adorable and partly because he was happy to see her resting. He realized quickly that he’d have to take matters into his own hands. He took a seat behind her, propping his feet up on the table, and pulled a pillow into his lap. He studied her for a moment before reaching for her shoulders and gently moving her so that her head was resting on the pillow. She stirred slightly before curling up again, and he seized the opportunity to return the water bottle to its place. His hands then went immediately to play in her hair, something she’d always enjoyed.

Philip took the moment of calm to reflect on the evening. He knew he loved her so much, and it killed him to think of her having to endure this. How could he help her, make this easier for her? The idea popped into his head immediately: he would go to the library and read everything he could get his hands on. Maybe understanding what was going on would help him understand how to handle it.

 

Almost an hour passed before she stirred again, this time wincing slightly and clutching her stomach. He moved one hand to make soothing passes up and down her back and leaned forward so he could see her face.

“Philip?”

“Yes, love?”

“What time is it?” she asked, groggily. He chuckled softly and looked at his watch.

“Almost ten.” He hadn’t realized it was quite that late. She yawned and reached for his hand, pulling it around her. He smiled at her obvious comfort and debated his next move. 

“Would you like me to help you to your bed, darling?” He thought she might be more comfortable there. She considered it for a moment before nodding her head and starting to sit up. He helped her to an upright position and jumped to his feet.

“Put your arms round my neck,” he said, as he leaned down to place a kiss on the top of her head. She gave him a confused look before the realization of what he was suggesting dawned on her. She started to protest, but he leaned in to kiss her before she could. He pulled back to see her smiling, her eyes looking up at him sleepily.

“Fine.” Theresa tried her best to sound exasperated to no avail. He slid one arm under her back and the other behind her knees before lifting her off the sofa. As he walked towards her room, she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, placing a kiss there before laying her head on his shoulder.

He pushed the door open with his foot and crossed the room to her bed, laying her down gently and pulling the covers back and over her.

“I’ll fetch your water bottle and be right back.” He dashed to the living room, reheated her water bottle, and returned it to her.

He crouched slightly so he was eye level with her and rested one arm on the edge of the bed while using the other hand to brush the stray hair out of her face.

“Are you feeling a bit better now?”

She pulled the covers almost up to her chin and smiled contentedly. “Yes. Still some cramping, but so much better.”

He was so relieved to hear her say that, but the thought of leaving her with no help made him very nervous. He decided to take a chance.

“I know you’re feeling better, but I don’t want to leave you to handle all of this on your own. I could sleep on the floor here…in case you need anything.” He hoped he wasn’t overstepping, but he had to ask.

Relief washed over him when she reached up to touch his cheek, a soft smile appearing on her face.

“If you don’t mind?” she said as he reached for her hand and placed a soft kiss on her palm. “Thank you, Philip…for all of this. You’ve made everything so much more bearable.” 

“Anything for you, love. Never forget that.” He leaned forward once more to kiss her on the forehead. “Now you try to sleep, and don’t hesitate to wake me for a fresh water bottle. I’ll be just over here.” He gestured to the nice spot on the floor that he’d picked for himself.

“Good night,” she said, before curling up slightly.

“Night,” he whispered as he turned off the lights and made his way back into the living room to search for the components of his makeshift bed. He pulled a throw and some pillows from the couch and returned to find Theresa sleeping peacefully. He made quick work of arranging everything before he settled, quite comfortably, on the floor.

He slept rather well, all things considered. She woke him twice to help her to the bathroom and change out her water bottle, and both times he’d tucked her back in before whispering an “I love you” and returning to his spot on the floor. Each time, he realized how glad he was that he’d stayed. 

 

The next thing he knew, he could feel the sun shining in through the window. He rubbed his eyes slightly before popping up to see that Theresa wasn’t in her bed. He jumped to his feet quickly, worried that she’d tried and failed to wake him for something she needed. He walked quickly into the living room to the smell of something cooking and decided she must be in the kitchen. He rounded the corner to see one of the most wonderful sights he could imagine: the color was back in her face, and she moved easily with no sign of pain. He allowed himself a moment to take it all in before she turned to him, a smile immediately spreading across her face. 

“Hello, sleepy head,” she said, smiling, “I figured I’d kept you up enough last night, so I didn’t want to wake you.” 

He stretched slightly, suddenly realizing his back was a little stiff, and crossed the room to stand in front of her. She slid her arms around his neck as his went to her waist.

“You’re pretty cute with your hair in a mess,” she said, lifting one hand to run her fingers through what was certainly a disheveled mop. He gave her a surprised look.

“Now that’s the first time I’ve heard that from anyone. Is it possible you’re biased?” 

“I might be,” she said, pulling him a little closer, “because I love you so much.” Her tone became more serious. “And I’m so thankful for you.”

He noticed now that her eyes were bright again, just like they always were, and he smiled as she pulled him in for a kiss. He savored this moment hoping this would be the first of many morning kisses throughout their lives. They were completely in their own world for a while before they smelled something burning and pulled apart quickly.

“The muffins!” she exclaimed as she turned sharply to pop two completely black English muffins out of the toaster. He couldn’t help but laugh, and she joined in, flipping it upside down to dump them on a plate. “These are for you,” she said handing them to him with a cheeky grin, “I hope you like them well done.”

“It’s a small price to pay if I get to kiss you like that.” Her cheeks turned pink instantly, as she reached for two more muffins to pop in the toaster.

The rest of the morning passed blissfully. She finished cooking and they ate together, sitting rather close so they could exchange affectionate touches. He saw their life together playing out before him. They would work together through struggles and hardships and come out on the other side even more in love than before. After all, life would always be a series of ups and downs, but with her, the downs were easier and the ups were perfect.


	7. Chapter 7

Theresa felt the slight nerves manifesting as a bubbly feeling in her stomach. She wasn’t really nervous, not as much as she thought she’d be anyway. She was more excited than anything to finally meet Philip’s parents and see where he came from. She was also thankful that schools were on break and the younger Mays were away on holiday, so it would just be them and his parents for the weekend. She wanted to meet his siblings one day, but it would be nice to have a quiet weekend with just John and Joy May.

Philip turned to her with a smile as he put his key in the door. “Ready?” he asked, turning the door knob dramatically.

She nodded and followed him into his parents’ home.

“Mum? Dad?” Philip called across the house, setting their bags down. Somehow the house was exactly what she’d imagine it would be. It wasn’t anything special in terms of material possessions, but there was a warmth that made it a home. A very animated Joy May appeared with a smiling John May close behind her. As they came closer, Theresa noticed that Joy was a few centimeters taller than John. She made a mental note to tease Philip about the May men and their predilection for tall women.

“You’re here!” Joy exclaimed, almost skipping towards them. She heard Philip chuckle as if to say he expected this exact scenario.

“Hi, Mum,” he said, catching her in a big hug. Theresa chuckled slightly when Joy pulled back, only to give Philip’s cheek a pinch. Philip turned to his father, giving him a hug as well. Seeing Philip and his dad together for the first time felt like a glimpse into the future. They looked almost exactly alike, the only difference, of course, being the amount of hair left on their heads. The image of a balding Philip was a little clearer now, but she found it strangely adorable.

Philip turned back to her and placed his hand softly on her lower back. She noted how much more comfortable he was with touching her now that it was his parents rather than hers, and she bit her lip slightly to hide her amusement.

“And you’re Theresa. It is so nice to finally meet you.” Joy seemed too excited to let Philip introduce her, which was very endearing.

Theresa extended her hand, which Joy took with both of hers. Warmth radiated off of her, and she had the same kind eyes that Theresa had grown to love in Philip. Theresa shook John’s hand next, taken aback again by how much he looked like Philip.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you both,” Theresa said, looking over to a smiling Philip. He’d been so excited about this weekend since they started planning it. “I can’t wait for them to meet you,” he’d said, over and over.

“Well dinner’s almost ready if you two want to put your things away,” Joy said, her wide smile still very much present.

Theresa followed Philip to what was usually his sisters’ room so she could drop off her things and then to his. She took in her surroundings of old family pictures and cricket posters.

“You know,” she said, crossing the room to stand very close to him, “I noticed you’re a little bit more comfortable putting your arm around me here than at my parent’s house.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling oddly bold. 

“Well that’s because I’m not scared of my parents.” His hands went to her waist. “Which bodes well for me because I’d very much like to kiss you right now.”

“Well what are you waiting for?” she asked with a cheeky grin.

They shared a smile for a moment before he leaned in to kiss her. No matter how many times he kissed her, she was sure it would never get old.

“We should probably go back downstairs…” he said with an annoyed groan.

“I guess so.” She pulled an exaggerated frown. “One more, though,” she said, giving him another quick kiss before grabbing his hand.

When they made it to the kitchen, Joy was running around putting the finishing touches on everything.

“Phillie, could you get the chicken out for me?” Joy asked, pointing to the oven. “It’s quite heavy.”

Philip’s cheeks immediately went pink, Theresa assumed due his mother’s affectionate diminutive. He sulked to the oven.

“Mum, I thought we talked about using embarrassing nicknames in front of Theresa.” She could tell he was mostly joking, but there seemed to be a hint of seriousness.

“Oh right! Well I balanced it out with an opportunity to show off how strong you are.” Joy squeezed his arm and winked at him, causing the pink in Philip’s cheeks to intensify. Regardless, he lifted the chicken out of the oven.

“I’m very impressed,” Theresa said, trying her best to sound sincere. He took a bow, still sporting Joy’s floral oven mitts.

They moved everything into the dining room where Philip’s dad was finishing up the table setting. The two couples sat across from each other, with Theresa directly in front of Joy.

The meal passed in relative ease, and she was surprised at how natural it was to talk to them. She learned that John was the quieter of the two, but very kind and funny in his own way. Philip may have looked like a younger, and slightly taller, version of his father, but his personality came from his mum. Over the course of the evening, Theresa found that Joy’s name was rather apt. The woman seemed to exude genuine happiness, and she knew now where Philip got it from.

Though she hadn’t thought it possible, each passing moment made her love Philip even more. Seeing him at home with his parents provided her with context, another part of him she hadn’t seen. As was the theme, the more she saw of him, the more she loved him.

“Everything was excellent, Joy. I might have to get some tips on how you roasted the chicken.” Theresa was partially trying to flatter, but also genuinely curious. She knew this was one of Philip’s favorites. 

“We can trade recipes then. Philip told me about some chocolate lava cakes that were to die for.” Theresa felt her cheeks flush at the memories that flooded her mind when Joy mentioned the dessert.

“Of course,” Theresa said, still trying to recover. She stole a glance at Philip, who was obviously trying to contain a laugh. “I’d be happy to help with the dishes!” she exclaimed, desperate for a subject change.

“That’s very kind of you,” Joy said, “if you’re sure? I can handle it if you’d rather?”

“I don’t mind at all!” Theresa said, giving a smile before she stood to collect the plates from the table. She looked over at Philip to see him beaming. He put his hand on her back and leaned in quickly to kiss her temple before going into the living room. She followed Joy into the kitchen and took on the job of drying dishes while Joy washed them. They made small talk for the most part until Joy seemed to take on a more serious demeanor.

“You know, Theresa, Philip is quite in love with you.” Theresa didn’t really know how to respond to such a matter-of-fact statement, but she smiled shyly in spite of herself. She knew he loved her. He told her and showed her almost constantly, but hearing his mum say it out loud somehow made it even more real to her.

“I’m… quite in love with him too,” Theresa said, knowing her cheeks were probably beet red at this point. Joy smiled in response, her eyes sparkling.

 

“The way he talked about you,” Joy said, her voice regaining its serious tone, “I knew you’d be special.” The older woman stopped her dish washing momentarily to look at Theresa straight on. Theresa could sense some hesitation from Joy, and it made her worry. “Philip also told us about your mum, and I want you to know that John and I consider you a part of our family.”

Theresa felt so many emotions at once, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. She was deeply touched by Joy’s words and incredibly thankful that she was being so kind and generous. She felt blindsided by the subject of her mother’s illness coming up when she hadn’t even known Joy would be aware of it. Somewhere deeper, she felt… angry? That was it. She was angry with Philip for revealing something so personal without her knowing.

“I know this isn’t easy for you to talk about, Theresa, and you don’t have to now. I just want you to know that we are here if you need us, just a phone call away.”

Tears were collecting in Theresa’s eyes now no matter how hard she fought them. She cursed herself for being emotional in front of someone she barely knew, but she simply couldn’t help it.

“Thank you so much,” she said, her voice cracking on nearly every word. “That means a lot to me.” A tear spilled onto her cheek, and she quickly reached up to wipe it away. There really was no use trying to hide anything now. Much like Philip, Theresa could feel that Joy really saw her beyond the walls she put up. It was both disconcerting and extremely comforting, comforting only because she knew Joy would never use it against her. No, the only thing she would ever do was try to help.

“Of course, dear.” Joy reached for a napkin and handed it to her with a soft smile. Until that moment, Theresa had been so consumed with her own emotions, she hadn’t noticed the tears in Joy’s eyes. Joy patted her on the arm, and took a napkin to her own tears. “I might be pushing my luck here, but I really feel like I need to hug you?” The statement sounded like a question, and Theresa laughed again. She knew that wasn’t exactly normal, but they were already crying together in the kitchen, so normal was already far out of sight. She nodded, and the older woman wrapped her up in a tight hug. “I’m so glad Philip met you.”

 

Philip. How was she going to deal with Philip?

“I’m so blessed to have him,” Theresa said, the internal conflict between anger and love for him making her chest tighten. They pulled back from their embrace, both still slightly teary, but smiling. 

“Tea! I think we should have some tea. I’ll put a kettle on.” Joy scurried around the kitchen to prepare the tea, something Theresa was grateful for because it gave her an opportunity to collect her thoughts. She knew she would have to talk to Philip about this. She was glad his parents knew about her mum, but she was not very pleased that he told them without her permission. She made the decision to talk to him after Joy and John retired for the night. He was usually very reasonable about things, so hopefully he would understand.

They finished up the tea and joined Philip and John in the living room. She knew instantly upon taking her seat beside him that Philip could tell she’d been crying. He gave her a familiar, worried look and she returned a small smile and a pat on his knee to let him know she was okay for the time being.

“Philip was telling me about how skilled you are as a debater.” John May broke his normal silence to pass on the compliment. “It’s been many years since I’ve won a debate.” Theresa could tell by his demeanor that he was setting himself up for a joke, and she smiled. “The last time was probably before I met you, dearest.” He looked over to Joy who swatted at him playfully.

“It’s true, though,” Philip said, taking a long, slow sip of his tea. Joy crossed her arms incredulously.

“I can’t help that I’m right so often.” She turned her nose up slightly.

“Mmm… Also true.” Philip took another dramatic sip of his tea.

“I suppose you do have a point there, love,” John said, winking at his wife. Philip winked at Theresa just like that all the time, and it always melted her heart. She took in everything, realizing she was sitting with the two people who had taught Philip to love her so well. She was so grateful to them for the gift of Philip, even if she was upset with him at the moment.

During the conversation, he reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers. The anticipation of a potentially unpleasant conversation was still in the back of her mind, but she focused on enjoying the rest of the evening. They talked and laughed until almost ten before John let out a yawn.

“It might be time for the olds to go to bed.” He stretched his arms in front of him and Joy nodded in agreement. The pair stood from their seats, and she and Philip followed suit. She wasn’t sure how to navigate this situation, so she resigned to letting it go how it may. Philip hugged both of his parents, and Joy set the precedent by pulling Theresa into a big hug. John did the same, rather less sure of himself, but it was nice all the same. She couldn’t have asked for better… in-laws. The thought ran through her mind before she had the chance to stop it.

“We’ll see you two in the morning. I have an afternoon tea set up for us tomorrow, Theresa. I think we need some girl time,” Joy said, smiling at her.

“That’s so kind of you,” Theresa said, “I look forward to getting some of those debating tips from you.” She looked over to see Philip take in a dramatic gulp.

“Well… Now I’ve done it,” Philip said, scratching the back of his neck.

They all shared a final good night before John and Joy retired. She felt Philip touch her back and she turned to see a concerned look on his face.

“You looked like you’d been crying earlier. Is everything all right?”

“I’m all right, but,” she paused, wondering if this conversation would be better suited for a different location. “Could we go for a walk?” He wasn’t satisfied that she was, in fact, all right, but he nodded in agreement.

He quickly pulled on his coat so he could help her into hers. It was the exact sort of sweet gesture that made the prospect of raising an issue with him even more difficult. Still, she knew it was important. They made their way out to the street where it was chilly, but not unpleasant. She could feel him eyeing her as they walked, but she took a moment to collect herself anyway.

“When I was talking to your mum earlier, she brought up my mum and,” she paused, clearing her throat, “I really wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t know you’d told her.” It was a statement, but she had a questioning tone. She hoped he’d figure out she was less than pleased.

“Yeah. I told her and Dad about everything after we went to Wheatley.” He sounded so matter-of-fact that it made her slightly angrier. Her sentiments must have traveled to her facial expressions because he responded immediately. “You look upset?” 

“I’m not angry, but I wish you hadn’t done that, at least not without asking me first.” She rushed through the statement, her nerves obvious in her quivering voice. She looked over at him, expecting something completely different than what she got. He looked a bit… irritated?

“I don’t understand.” He was definitely miffed. “I wasn’t supposed to tell my parents about major part of my girlfriend’s life?”

What had started out as slight annoyance with him was now full on anger.

“No, Philip, you weren’t. That’s not something I broadcast around to everyone. It’s personal.”

“They’re not everyone. They’re my parents. That’s ridiculous, Theresa!”

Her cheeks flushed immediately. They’d never had a disagreement before, but even when she’d thought about what it might be like, it never included him calling her ridiculous. “It’s not ridiculous to ask for a modicum of privacy, Philip.” Her voice was low and even now, despite the flurry of emotions under the surface.

He didn’t seem to have a response, but the moment of silence between them brought an awful thought to her mind. “You haven’t told them about…” she stopped, taking a deep breath so she could continue, “my issues.” She felt silly referring to her disorder as “my issues”, but there wasn’t much she could do to correct it now. She waited desperately for him to negate her question, but as the seconds passed, she grew more and more nervous. He finally looked up at her, a pained expression on his face. He had told them. She had no idea what to say, but she was distraught.

“Theresa, I didn’t…”

“Please don’t.” She held her hand up to stop him. She needed a moment of quiet to figure out how to proceed, and she certainly didn’t need an excuse from him. How could he do that? How could he break her trust like that on a subject so deeply personal to her? Furthermore, how could he say she was ridiculous for wanting to keep this private? Ridiculous was something she strived so hard not to be, and hearing him say that was a deep cut.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t think this would upset you.”

“You didn’t think it would upset me to have your parents know intimate details of my life before I’ve even had the chance to meet them?”

He looked down at his shoes, obviously realizing he might have made a mistake. He went to speak again but stopped himself short.

“Philip, I had a hard time telling you those things.”

He stopped in his tracks, guilt creeping onto his face. “I thought since they’re my parents…” He trailed off, sounding almost like he was trying to explain it to himself as much as he was trying to explain it to her. She could feel a lump forming in her throat now, which infuriated her. She was set on being angry with him, and she simply couldn’t cry right now. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

“There’s a reason I don’t tell people about these things, Philip. I don’t want anyone to look at me differently.” The pain in his expression made it harder for her to continue. “I don’t want anyone, not even your parents, to look at me and think ‘Oh there’s the girl whose mum is dying. Poor Theresa. There’s the girl who has debilitating cramps. What a pity. There’s the girl who can’t…’”

Get pregnant… She finished the thought in her mind because she certainly couldn’t bear to say those horrid words out loud right now. That particular misfortune could wait for another day, but the pain of it caused the tears that had gathered in her eyes to flow out onto her cheeks.

“If I can’t control any of these horrible things, I’d at least like to control who knows and how they know. I just want some control over this one little thing!” She drew in a ragged breath. She was really crying now.

It was obviously not the first time she’d lost it in front of him, but something about the situation made it even more frustrating. She couldn’t even keep it together to be mad at him.

“I’m so sorry, Theresa.” The sincerity of his words made her cry even more. “I am so incredibly sorry.” He stepped towards her but seemed totally at a loss for what to do. She, too, was fighting an internal battle between her anger towards him and her desperate desire for him to hold her and whisper that he loved her. In the end, he made the decision for her, stepping forward and wrapping his arms tightly around her. Her hands went straight to his chest, grasping at the lapels of his coat and pulling him as close to her as possible. She buried her face in his shoulder as one of his hands made slow passes up and down her back.

He repeated over and over how sorry he was, and she believed him. He was nothing if not earnest and sincere, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d betrayed her trust.

“Why did you tell them?” she asked, pulling away from his embrace. She was still crying, but it was mostly under control now.

“I don’t know. I guess I was worried and I… I guess I wasn’t thinking about…” He trailed off. His hand went to the back of his neck and he looked off into the distance for a moment. “I had to talk to someone, Theresa. I don’t want to burden you, but I… felt like I needed some advice. I don’t know. I feel silly now.”

Realization smacked her like a ton of bricks. She searched her memory for times when she’d asked how he felt about all this, but there was nothing. He’d been all support and all strength with no chance to tell her how this was affecting him. She’d dropped two major bombs on him, a happy-go-lucky nineteen- year-old, without so much as a follow up to see how he was doing. She still wasn’t happy that he’d shared her personal life with someone else, but she could see why he might feel he needed to talk to someone about it. Her anger turned to concern.

“Philip…” She reached up to push his hair back into place, her hand settling back on his chest. “I’ve just now realized that I never asked how any of this affects you.”

“Theresa, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Of course I do.”

“You’re the one who actually has to live this. The least I can do is be there for you and not go off blabbing to my parents.” As much as she was sure he’d made a mistake, she was also assured of her own misstep. She’d allowed him think he was supposed to bear the weight of her problems along with his own fears without being able to talk to her about it. She placed a hand on his cheek, her finger moving along the outside of his ear.

“I will never be able to thank you for how supportive you’ve been.” The emotion was clear in her voice, but this time, it wasn’t out of anger and frustration. It was out of an overwhelming love for him. “But this is a two-way street. Everything I’ve dropped in your lap would be too much for most people. You shouldn’t feel like you have to bottle that up.” She stopped to search his eyes and make sure he was hearing her. “You can always talk to me about anything. If we’re in this for the long haul, it has to be a partnership.”

He was looking back at her in silence, she assumed, letting her words sink in.

“I hate that you have to go through any of this.” Anger was knitted into his expression, but she knew it was anger at the circumstances. “But… I know how strong you are. I know you’ll get through all of this.” He paused to clear his throat. “The thing I really worry about is if I… if I’m good enough… strong enough to support you.” It caught her off guard to see him express any sort of insecurity. Insecure was the last word she’d choose to describe him. She felt awful that she hadn’t been more reassuring, and even more awful that the only real insecurity he seemed to have was in his ability to care for her. 

“Oh, Philip, of course you are. You’ve been so wonderful.” She thought back to all of the sweet things he’d done for her. “You slept on my floor so I wouldn’t have to fill my own water bottle for goodness’ sake!” They laughed through the tears that were in both of their eyes now. “I could never expect anyone to handle all of this perfectly, but you’ve basically done just that. Never think you aren’t good enough, because you are so much better than I could’ve ever dreamed.”

“Truly?” he asked, the earnest nature of his question causing her to smile.

“Truly.”

Relief washed over his face, and he let out a deep breath. “Well I wasn’t so wonderful to you earlier. I’m sorry for saying you were being ridiculous. I didn’t mean it, and your feelings are very justified.” She nodded to acknowledge his apology. “And I’m sorry I shared something with my parents that wasn’t mine to tell. I should have checked with you first.”

“It’s all right. Your mum was incredibly kind. We’ll just have to be more open with each other about these things going forward.”

He nodded in agreement and grabbed both of her hands before placing a soft kiss on each one. She leaned forward slightly so her forehead was resting on his and closed her eyes to savor the closeness she felt with him in this moment. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” he said, before leaning in to kiss her.

She pulled back slightly and eyed him for a moment before speaking, barely above a whisper. “You didn’t tell them about the Valentine’s Day fiasco, did you?”

“Gosh! No! I would die first.” He seemed rather adamant, and she seized her opportunity.

“Should I not have told my dad about that then?” The colour immediately drained from his face, and she had to bite the inside of her lip to stop her laughter. She held him in suspense for a few more moments before a smile crept onto her face.

“Oh! You’re making a joke.” His relief was palpable. “That is so not funny! You know he scares me!” He sounded like he was half joking and half serious, but she was almost doubled over with laughter.

“I’m sorry, love.” She sidled up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ve always wondered what a heart attack feels like. Now I know.” He clutched at his chest and made a pained face.

“Walk it off, duck. You’ll make it.” She said, pulling him by the arm back to the house.

“It’s not fair because you’re not even a little bit scared of either of my parents.”

“Oh well, your mum and I have cried together now and we’re having tea and sharing recipes. The only thing left is hair braiding and we’ll be proper best friends.”

“I knew she’d love you. I knew both of them would love you.”

“They’re wonderful, Philip.”

When they made it back to the house, both were keen on sleeping but not so keen on being apart. Several kisses and a reluctant good night sent them their separate ways for a surprisingly peaceful night of sleep.

The next day was wonderfully relaxing. They all had breakfast together and Philip spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon showing her around the place where he grew up. Before she knew it, it was time for tea with Joy. She felt it was necessary to follow up with Joy since she knew the unfortunate truths now. She’d been contemplating how to start that conversation all day, but she’d pretty much resigned to it being painfully awkward.

The tea started well. She and Joy agreed on Earl Grey, Theresa’s favorite, and they made easy conversation about cooking and her studies. She got a few good childhood stories about Philip and had a delicious miniature chocolate cupcake before she took advantage of a pause to get this dreaded talk over with. 

“So I talked to Philip last night about…” Well this was already awkward. “I know he told you about… about my disorder.” She hated saying the word disorder, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

“He did,” Joy said, spreading some jam on a scone, “and I gather he probably shouldn’t have.” Theresa felt her cheeks go pink, and she turned her focus to pouring her tea through the strainer.

“It’s not that I didn’t want you to know. I just…” She wasn’t really sure what she was planning to say, but Joy chimed in.

“Wanted us to know on your own terms.”

“Exactly.” She was relieved that Joy understood. “But I want you both to know that I’m okay. This obviously isn’t ideal, but I don’t want you to… look at me any differently.” The last part was hard for her to get out.

“Oh my dear, they only way I’d look at you differently is to recognize how incredibly strong you are.” Joy reached across the table to pat her hand.

“I don’t think so sometimes,” Theresa admitted, looking down at the table. She could barely manage conversation about these things without crying all over someone.

“You are a very brave young woman, Theresa. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

“Thank you.” Theresa was, again, amazed at Joy’s kindness and sincerity. “I think you should also know that Philip has been wonderful. He’s so supportive and so kind.”

Joy just smiled at her as Theresa remembered all of the kind things Philip had done for her since they started dating. Just last week, he’d turned up at her apartment with an electric heating pad. “It’s much easier than a water bottle, and it stays hot so you don’t have to move!” he’d exclaimed, obviously very excited. She’d welled up at the thought he put into the gift and the enthusiasm he had for making life easier for her. She felt she needed to clarify to Joy just how wonderful he was.

“He’s been more than supportive, actually. He’s really taken care of me and been there when anyone else would’ve been running for the hills.” She knew most men his age would probably faint at the hint of a period conversation. “The last time I…the last time, he stayed with me for hours, refilling my hot water bottle and making me herbal tea.” Theresa stumbled over the details, but she wanted Joy to know just how attentive Philip had been. “You should be proud, and I consider myself quite lucky.”

“You’re going to make me cry at tea,” Joy said, fanning slightly at her eyes, but laughing all the while. “He’s a special one, my Philip, but he does worry about you.”

“I wish he wouldn’t, but I understand.”

“He only worries when he cares, and he cares a great deal about you. For any faults he may have, not caring enough would never be among them.”

“I’m not sure I’ve been able to find any faults at all.” Theresa secretly hoped Joy might have some insight. She knew he couldn’t be totally perfect, but he did seem that way most of the time.

“Well, he certainly isn’t perfect. It’s odd because his biggest strength is probably his biggest weakness too.”

“How so?” Theresa was genuinely curious now.

“His generosity. He loves to give and serve, but he won’t ever ask for things. It’s not sustainable.”

From everything Theresa had seen, Joy was absolutely correct. She often worried that their relationship was too one-sided, with him taking on the lion’s share of the giving. “It is rather hard to get him to talk about himself,” she observed out loud. “What did you do about it?”

“Encourage him. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it’s what he needs. He needs to know he’s doing a good job.”

That made sense to her too. He spent a great deal of time when they were together asking if she was enjoying herself, if she was comfortable. She’d always thought of it as him generally being nice, but she’d never considered it quite like this.

“And sometimes you have to make him let you do things for him.” Joy rolled her eyes at her own phrasing, but it was effective. 

“So his biggest issue is that he’s too nice for his own good? I don’t know if I’ll be able to look past this,” Theresa quipped to Joy’s amusement.

“Actually, in the spirit of total honesty, he’s not very fun when he’s sick. He turns into a rather large and annoying baby. I’m sure you’ll see what I mean eventually.” Joy sipped her tea with wide eyes, signaling to Theresa that she was not exaggerating. 

“If that’s still the worst of it, I feel rather lucky,” Theresa said with slight smile.

“Well I’m certainly biased, but I think he’s quite a catch.”

“Yes, well, I’ve had a few encounters with people who’d like to take him off my hands, so it’s not the bias.” Theresa remembered the Christmas ball, almost as a funny anecdote now even though it caused her quite a lot of pain at the time.

“He’s always worried about being on the shorter side, so I’m glad that didn’t stop you.” Theresa had to laugh because it was, in fact, the only thing that had given her pause. “And it seems May men do like their women a little taller,” Joy said with a wink, referencing her own match, and the two women shared one of what Theresa hoped would be many laughs over the course of her life.


	8. Chapter 8

Philip watched in awe as Theresa awkwardly fidgeted with the bowling ball. They’d talked all week about trying something new for a date, and in the end, they’d settled on bowling. Theresa told him she wasn’t very good, but he didn’t mind. He thought it would be rather cute to watch her try and maybe he could sneak in a lesson or two that involved being close to her.

“Should I hold it with my right hand or my left hand?” she asked, turning to face him.

“Your right hand…The one you write with,” he said with an amused smile. “Hold it with your middle finger and your ring finger.”

“That feels odd. I don’t think that’s right?” Her tone implied a question, but he knew that what she really meant was that she’d hold it however she pleased.

“Whatever feels comfortable for you, dove,” he said, trying his best to stifle a laugh. She looked unbelievably adorable. “You look very cute by the way.”

Her cheeks went pink as she made her best attempt to hide a smile. “Stop trying to distract me with compliments. I need to focus so I can beat you.” She turned her back to him dramatically. He was fairly certain there was no danger of that, but he admired her tenacity.

She took a deep breath and shuffled her feet to make sure she was in the center of the lane before pulling her arm back slinging it forward haphazardly. Even if she’d tried, she couldn’t have put it more directly in the gutter. Despite his best efforts a laugh escaped, and she turned to him with feigned hurt.

“Are you laughing at me?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Of course not! I would never!”

“Mmhmm,” She said squinting her eyes at him skeptically.

“I could always give you some pointers if you’d like?”

“Oh?” she said curiously, as he stood from his seat.

He grabbed her bowling ball from the return and handed it to her. “Turn round.”

“Bossy,” she said with a playful smile.

“Please,” he said with a smile, placing his hand on her lower back. She turned and he stepped behind her, moving his hands to her shoulders. He slid his right hand down her arm to her wrist. “Okay. Hold this hand in front of your face.” He kept a loose grip on her right wrist as his left hand went to rest on her waist.

“Is all of this absolutely necessary?” she asked, turning slightly so he could see the smile creeping across her face. 

“Of course. My teaching method has never failed,” he said with a proud look.

“Oh? So you’ve done this before?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Well I didn’t say it’s succeeded… it just never failed.” He chuckled and she shook her head at him before turning her attention back to the task at hand. “Now, you need to make sure your wrist is completely straight.”

“It is straight!” she insisted, moving her arm to show him. He looked over her shoulder to see that her hand was bent completely back and chuckled softly.

“Try this.” He squeezed her wrist slightly causing her to straighten it and looked over to see her reaction.

“Are you sure this is how you’re supposed to do it?”

“Positive. Now when you pull your arm back, you need to make sure your wrist stays completely straight. Then when you move it forward, you can rotate your whole arm towards your left side.”

“Okay. I think I can do that.”

“Then you release when your arm is in line with the rest of your body and follow through to a handshake position.”

“A handshake position?” she asked skeptically.

“It works! Trust me. Now let’s do a trial run of all that.”

“That seems silly.”

“It is, but that’s the fun part,” he said with a grin.

“Well I can’t really do it with your arms around me now can I?” She turned her head slightly so there was almost no space between them.

“I suppose not,” he said, wanting desperately to kiss her but knowing it would probably make her uncomfortable in public. Later, he thought. He lingered for another moment before backing away and gesturing for her to give it a try.

She held the ball in front of her face for a moment before going through the motions he’d taught her… well… an approximation of what he’d taught her.

“Okay…Um… You can go ahead and give it a try. Just remember your wrist.”

She nodded at him and turned to face the pins. He looked on as she steadied herself before rearing back and slinging the ball forward. This time, it spent rather a long time in the air before crashing down into the gutter. She watched it until it reached the end and turned to him, wincing slightly.

“I don’t think that was quite right,” she said, walking slowly to take the seat beside him.

“It might have been an improvement on the first, though?” he said, earning a playful swat in return.

“All right, let’s see what you’ve got, sir.”

Philip cracked his knuckles dramatically and stood to retrieve his ball from the return. He lined up in the middle of the lane and bowled, taking down 7 pins in the process. He felt a swell of pride and turned to her.

“All in the wrist,” he said, pointing to his right arm. He got a playful eyeroll in return. His next try didn’t go quite as well, but by comparison, he was pretty good. The remaining nine frames were similar to the first. Theresa struggled to knock down the few pins she did, but she was a good sport about it and seemed to be enjoying it in spite of her difficulties.

“That was fun,” she said, as he sat down beside her after his final frame. “You want to do another game?”

He was surprised that she was still game. “Are you sure? We could do something else if you’re…” She cut him off.

“I’m sure. I’m just getting warmed up,” she said, flashing him the look that would make him give her anything she asked for.

“All right.” He put his hands up in surrender.

“We could try a wager for the next one?” she said with an excited grin.

“A wager? Are you sure?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun!” she exclaimed, grabbing him by the arm.

“Okay, what are the odds for this wager?”

“I don’t know? We can decide what we want?”

“Okay… How about… a roast chicken and some more of those lava cakes if I win,” he said, now very excited about the prospect of winning.

“Done!” She exclaimed with a smile.

“And for you?” he asked, genuinely curious about what she might want from him.

“I want,” she paused to think, “that Oxford sweatshirt you let me borrow, the comfortable one.”

He knew exactly which one she was talking about, and her wanting it made him happy. He was tempted to offer it whether she won the game or not, but he knew it would take the fun out of it.

“All right, it’s yours. Assuming you beat me of course.” He was sporting a self-satisfied grin that she picked up on immediately.

“Okay, Mr. Smug. Let’s get to it then.”

He went first for this game, taking down 8 pins. “I can taste the roast chicken now,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as he passed her.

“We’ll see about that,” she mumbled, almost inaudibly.

He watched as she pulled her ball from the return and walked slowly to stand in the center of the lane. She took another glance back at him and he gave her a smile and a thumbs up. He was trying to be a good sport even though he knew he’d win. When she turned back around, he noticed that her wrist was totally straight this time. She drew her arm back and threw it forward with almost perfect form this time. The ball curved to the outside of the lane and back to the center, knocking down all ten pins in the process. He wasn’t sure how to process what he’d just witnessed. How did she do that? She walked back to her seat beside him in total silence, not acknowledging the miraculous change in her bowling performance at all. She sat, facing forward, as a slight grin appeared on her face.

“Wha… how… what was that?” he asked, still completely baffled by her.

“As it turns out, you’re a very good teacher,” she said, the hint of a laugh bubbling up near the end.

He turned to face her and studied her face for another moment.

“What?” she asked, this time the laugh breaking through.

“Did you just hustle me?” He was still in a mild state of disbelief, but he was starting to put the pieces together.

“I don’t know what you mean!”

“You did!”

“I certainly have no idea what you’re talking about.” She put her hand on her chest, feigning offense.

“Right…” he said, squinting back at her. He lingered for another moment before standing up to bowl his frame. He got all but one this time. Not bad, he thought, as he took his seat.

“My turn,” she said, jumping up excitedly. He, oddly enough, rather enjoyed seeing this side of her… even if she had tricked him. She nearly repeated her last frame, this time with a spare rather than a strike.

“Okay. Now I know I’m being taken in.”

She walked back to stand in front of him and shrugged innocently. “I may have done this a few times before.”

“A few?” he asked skeptically.

“Okay… a few dozen,” she said with a mischievous smile. He stood up so that they were face to face and stepped forward so they were quite close

“I cannot believe…that you, Theresa Mary Brasier, just tried to hustle me.”

“Tried? I think I’ve succeeded,” she said, reaching up to straighten the right side of his shirt collar. Suddenly, he felt intoxicated. She was so close to him, playing with the button on the corner of his collar when… “Philip?” she said, leaning in a little bit closer.

“Hmmm?”

“It’s your turn,” she whispered into his ear. She pulled back for a second to smile at him before taking her seat and crossing her legs triumphantly. He needed a moment to recover from that. He was so used to shy and sweet Theresa that he’d never considered there might be another side. He loved her both ways, but this side was oddly… sexy?

The rest of the game went far from in his favor. She trounced him, to put it lightly, and while he didn’t enjoy losing, he did enjoy seeing her with so much confidence. He often wished she would be more sure of herself, not for him but for her. He wanted her to see what he saw, what he loved about her.

“You know, if you wanted the sweatshirt all you had to do was ask.” He grabbed her hand as they made their way out to the sidewalk.

“I know,” she said, squeezing his hand, “but it was fun, don’t you think?”

“Not so much for me, no,” he said with a chuckle as he looked over at her. “That was a side of you I haven’t seen before.”

“I’m a little bit competitive sometimes.” She held her hand in front of her face with her thumb and index finger scarcely separated, eliciting a laugh from both of them. “But if it makes you feel any better,” she said, turning to face him as they walked, “I’ll still make the roast chicken and lava cakes for you.”

“I think that makes me feel a little better… only a little though,” he said with a dejected frown.

“Hmmm,” she said with a thoughtful tone. She looked around as they walked before pulling him by the arm into the alleyway between two buildings. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him gently against the brick wall. His hands grasped for her waist as she leaned in to kiss him soundly. He pulled her closer and she wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair. When they finally came up for air, her cheeks were flushed, and she looked stunning. “How about now?” she asked, leaning into him.

“Much better.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Amen,” Theresa said, as a handful of childish voices echoed her exaggeration of the first syllable. As she opened her eyes, the children gathered around her scattered in different directions. She looked up to see the smiling face of her boyfriend, who she’d had to look away from during the prayer. He’d been struggling to keep his balance on the small chair he’d pulled up, and the scene was nearly too much for her to handle.

They had come to Wheatley for Sunday services, and she had fulfilled her familiar role as a children’s Sunday School teacher. She enjoyed the task for many reasons, chief among them a chance to be around little ones. Theresa had always loved children. They brought out her silly side, something she didn’t let most people see, and she felt at ease around them. It was fascinating to watch them grow and learn, and she felt blessed to be a part of it. She felt a slight tug on her skirt and looked down to see the source.

“Will you help me with my shoelaces?” the small boy asked with a hint of embarrassment.

“Of course!” she exclaimed with a smile as she knelt down to look him in the eye. “Shoelaces are tricky. I didn’t learn until I was even older than you are.”

“Really?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“Really. My mum taught me with the bunny ear trick. Do you know that one?”

“I can’t remember,” he said sheepishly, his cheeks turning bright red.

“Oh, that’s okay! We’ll do it together.” She gave him a reassuring smile, and he relaxed slightly. “All right.” she took his shoe laces and formed two loops with each. She slowly recited the familiar bunny rabbit rhyme, and he chimed in hesitantly.

“There we go! All finished,” she said, pretending to dust off her hands. He shook his foot around to inspect the quality of her work, and when he was satisfied looked up at her with a bright smile.

“Thank you, Miss Theresa.” Before she could respond, he quickly wrapped his tiny arms around her neck.

“Of course, George,” she said, squeezing him gently.

He ran off as fast as his newly tied shoes would carry him.

“Slow down, George, you’ll…” she tapered off, “hurt yourself.” She almost whispered the last part at the realization he was far out of earshot. She went to push herself up off of the ground, but Philip’s hand was there before she had the chance. He helped her up, and once she was back on her feet, checked the room before giving her a peck on the lips. She felt herself blush slightly. This was certainly the millionth time he’d kissed her like this, but there was something about the way he was looking at her now.

“You’re so good with them,” he said, stepping away to straighten the small chairs.

“Tying shoes is a lot easier than adult problems.” she said, moving around swiftly to tidy the room before the main service. How true, she thought. She wished now that her biggest concern was learning to tie her shoes.

“I’m going to make a quick stop by the bathroom before the service,” he said, motioning towards the door.

“Okay. I’ll finish up here and find you.”

She made sure the room was completely in order before turning out the lights and going in search of Philip. When she rounded the corner, she saw him standing in front of a visibly upset little girl, and she looked on as he knelt down to be on her level.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she heard him ask as he leaned forward.

“My brover…” A string of sniffs interrupted her speech. “Left me.” She made tiny fists to rub her now-puffy eyes. “I can’t find my mummy and daddy.” She’d upset herself more, and now she was in a full panic.

“It’s going to be all right. We’ll find them. Here…” Philip reached his arms out, and the girl happily snuggled into him, tucking her face into his neck as he wrapped his arms around her small frame. Theresa’s heart nearly burst at the sight.

“Who do we have here?” she asked as she walked closer to them. Philip stood, lifting the small girl who was still clinging tightly to him.

“I’m not quite sure, actually. I just found her here in the hallway.”

Theresa stepped closer and placed a hand on the girl’s back. “This is Lisa. Her parents should be across the way.” Theresa motioned towards the sanctuary.

“Oh great. Lead the way.”

Theresa heard a new wave of sobs break out and looked back to see Philip nuzzling Lisa closer.

“Shhh. It’s all right. We’re nearly there,” he said as he patted her back. Theresa had to turn away from him to hide the expression on her face. She’d never really seen Philip interact with children; there was never an opportunity at university. But now, she was fighting the misty eyes triggered by watching his almost paternal instincts in action. Children, she knew, were harsh judges of character, but Lisa went to Philip without a second thought.

She fought it with everything she had, but the inevitable image of what he might be like as a father clawed its way into her mind. She’d always assumed he wanted children, but this brought what was abstract into reality. It also reinforced the urgency of a conversation she’d been dreading.

The thought caused a slight twinge in her chest, and she looked back again to see Philip repeating reassurances to the young girl in his arms. When they made it to the main hall of the church, Theresa immediately spotted a rather panicked-looking Mr. and Mrs. Andrews.

“Over there, Philip,” Theresa said, pointing to the couple.

“Look who it is!” Philip said in a whisper, leaning his head over so the girl could hear him. She lifted her head from his shoulder, and her features relaxed immediately upon seeing her parents.

“Mummy!” she exclaimed, pointing at them. Philip quickened his pace, moving gracefully through the pews as Theresa followed.

“There you are! We were so worried.” Mrs. Andrews reached out to put her hand on Lisa’s back. Theresa watched as Lisa happily remained in Philip’s arms, her hands loosely wrapped around his neck.

“A little scare, but we figured it out. Right?” he said to Lisa, who nodded enthusiastically in return.

“Thank you so much for your help…” Mr. Andrews said, tapering off with the inflection of a question.

“Philip,” he said, resituating Lisa and extending his hand to the couple.

“And you are Theresa’s…?” Mrs. Andrews chimed in with a smile.

“Boyfriend,” Theresa said, sliding closer to him.

“Well, it seems like you’ve made a good choice, Theresa. Lisa certainly thinks so.” They all turned their attention to the girl who was contentedly resting her head on Philip’s shoulder. They all shared a laugh, and Theresa felt another tug in her chest watching him.

Philip passed a reluctant Lisa back to her parents, and he followed Theresa to their normal pew. They chose a seat near the edge so her mum’s chair could sit right beside them. Theresa took her seat and Philip followed suit, stretching his arm around her in the process. She looked over at him and smiled warmly. He tightened his arm around her and started to lean in for a kiss before pulling back and reevaluating.

“You can just imagine that I kissed you right then,” he whispered, eliciting a laugh.

“Noted,” she said, patting his leg. “I… We need to talk about something. Later. When we get back to Oxford.” Nerves shot through her whole body, almost making her shiver. 

Concern was etched into his features as he turned to face her. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes. Everything’s fine. It’s just something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Don’t worry.” She grabbed his hand and patted it and he relaxed visibly with a hint of apprehension still on his face.

Her father spoke on the beatitudes, and Philip listened intently, taking notes on occasion. He held the hymnal for both of them during the music, and she leaned into his side so she could hear the lovely singing voice she’d only recently discovered he had. Simple moments like this almost knocked her flat with love. The ease between them, the comfort she felt when he put his arm around her waist, all of it confirmed to her that they were meant to be together…at least she hoped so.

They stayed in Wheatley for part of the afternoon, enjoying a nice lunch with her parents where her father casually mentioned to Philip that he’d seen him holding Theresa’s hand from the pulpit. Philip apologized nervously, much to the amusement of Theresa and Zaidee. After lunch, she and Philip got a bus back to Oxford. Philip spent a rather large portion of the ride fretting over whether her father was really upset with him, but she managed to calm him down.

Once they made it back to her apartment, she anxiously announced that she’d put the kettle on for them. She needed a few moments alone to steady her nerves, so she left him in the living room. On her own in the kitchen, she suddenly felt the nerves kick in for the conversation she’d been dreading for a while. She wasn’t sad or upset, but she was incredibly nervous. She knew Philip would never hurt her intentionally, but she didn’t know how he would respond to the news that she might not ever be able to get pregnant. Would he still want to be with her?

Returning from the kitchen with tea and biscuits, she found that Philip had already made himself comfortable, his jacket and tie nowhere to be seen.

“You look comfortable,” she quipped with a smile. 

“I am,” he said, as she placed the tray on the coffee table in front of them. “Thanks for this.”

They both added milk to their tea in total silence, and she watched him scoop sugar with amusement. It may have been more efficient for him to drink just sugar and milk. The light moment was interrupted by a painful silence, and they both stared into their tea as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Philip reached for a biscuit. She fiddled with the hem of her skirt. Neither of them spoke for what seemed like an eternity. She wanted to say something, to initiate the conversation, but the words she’d rehearsed in her mind for months instantly failed her.

“Is this a new kind of biscuit?” he asked with a quizzical look.

“No, it’s the same kind.”

“Oh… it tastes different.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure what’s different, though.” She watched him hold the biscuit up in front of his face so he could examine it more closely.

“Maybe it’s the tea making it taste different? The amount of sugar or something?” She felt like an idiot talking about biscuits, but she couldn’t force the words she really wanted to say out.

“Maybe,” he said, drumming his fingers on the tea cup. Now was her moment. She cleared her throat in preparation to speak, but again, nothing came out. She knew he could tell she was on edge by the sympathetic look he now wore. There truly was no hiding herself from him.

“So,” he said, reaching out to put his tea cup on the side table, “what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” He turned to her and placed his hands around her knees, pulling her legs across his lap. This had become a normal way for them to sit in during conversation or while they were studying. Her long legs made sitting on a couch for prolonged periods uncomfortable, and they both loved the closeness it provided. The familiarity of it put her slightly more at ease.

“Well, I was thinking today, when we were… that is, when you were…” She paused, knowing this rambling was almost useless. She felt him squeeze her knee gently and looked up to see a weak smile.

“Seeing you with Lisa made me think about… the future.” She looked at him for a moment to make sure he was following, and he gave her an affirmative nod. “And I wanted to talk to you about that and…my disorder.” She was starting to struggle, and his sympathetic look let her know he was aware of that.

“It’s all right, love. Take your time.” He patted her leg softly and reached for her right hand with his left. She gave an appreciative smile.

“There’s a possibility…well a likelihood that I might not be able…that maybe I can’t…” She couldn’t say it. No matter the lead in, she couldn’t say the words.

“I know, sweetheart,” Philip said with a soft and steady voice. He took her left hand as well and leaned down to kiss each one. “I already know.”

He knew? How? She wanted to know, but the relief that washed over her caused tears to form in her eyes and fall down onto her cheeks. He pulled her closer and wrapped her in a tight hug, her head resting snugly under his chin. 

“I love you, Theresa,” he whispered softly as he placed a kiss in her hair.

He still loved her. Even though everything was out in the open, even though he knew she may not be able to have their children, he still loved her.

“I love you too. So, so much!” Her tears were still flowing, so he held her until they weren’t.

After a moment, she leaned her head back slightly so she could look up at him, their arms still wrapped around each other. “How?” she asked as he reached up to wipe away a remaining tear on her cheek.

“After you told me about everything, I went to the library for some research papers. I just wanted to find out what I could, see if there were things I could do to help. I thought maybe understanding more about your condition might help me take better care of you.”

“So you found it there while trying to make my life easier?” she asked, more as a statement of how wonderful he was.

“Trying being the operative word. I don’t feel like I’m doing much at all to help.”

“Oh Philip,” she had to pause to organize all of the wonderful things he’d done for her in her mind, “you have been perfect.” He smiled weakly, but didn’t seem convinced. She reached out to brush his hair back. “Even just sitting with you is comfort enough, but you go so far beyond that for me, and I’ll never be able to thank you properly.” A relieved smile spread across his face. “Why didn’t you bring it up before?”

“I wanted you to be able to tell me in your own time, when you were ready.”

“Apparently, I wasn’t ready today either,” she said, and they shared a laugh. “I do want to make sure you know exactly what you’re in for.”

“Of course,” he said, gently pushing her hair back out of her face.

She shifted so she was still facing him but sitting more upright. She wanted to talk to him straight on, to make sure he understood.

“With Stein-Leventhal, there are a lot of potential issues. I’m less likely to get pregnant and if I do, I’m more likely to miscarry.” She almost teared up again as her nerves returned. “So that means,” she felt him squeeze her hand again, “I may never be able to carry a baby to term.”

He nodded slightly, taking everything in stride. “I read all of that, and to be honest, I wasn’t really sure how to process things at first.” She appreciated his honesty. She knew this couldn’t have been easy for him. “I’ve always thought I would want children one day, but,” he paused, and looked at her with intensity, “I want you, first and foremost.”

His words were so calming to her. She’d always wondered, always feared, that men might be scared off by the probability that she wouldn’t be able to have their baby. She knew the person she married would have to be incredibly special, and that Philip was.

“You’re sure?” she asked needing to give him an out, a way to make sure he was positive.

“That I want to be with you forever no matter the circumstances? I’m positive.” He leaned forward to kiss her before laying his forehead on hers. “Whatever happens or doesn’t happen, I’ll be there. Okay?”

All she could do was nod. She was overcome by his words, his promise. Like many things she’d spent so much time worrying about, Philip put her fear to rest. She knew life would have heartache, probably more than she could take at times, but it would also have Philip.


	10. Chapter 10

“I don’t feel well,” she heard Philip say with a strained voice over the telephone. It was a rather nice Saturday afternoon in Oxford. They were nearing the end of a frigid winter, and Theresa was glad to see evidence of the seasons changing.

“Oh no! What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I think I’ve got a cold.”

She could hear the hint of congestion in his voice, but there was also a hint of exaggeration. She smiled as she remembered what his mum had told her about sick Philip.

“Well that won’t do. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I was wondering if I could come over there?” he said, without hesitation. She smiled again, knowing she was likely in for an interesting day.

“Of course, duck. Anything you need.”

“I’ll be over soon. Thanks.” He sounded absolutely pitiful, which was oddly adorable. She was certain that would wear off quickly.

She scurried around to find her warm blankets and extra pillows. She considered setting him up in her room, but she knew he would probably prefer the couch. Joy told her that what he really wanted when he was sick was attention, and the couch was certainly the best spot for that. By the time everything was ready for him, she heard three gentle knocks. She moved swiftly to the door, opening it to see a comfortably dressed Philip. She studied his face to find puffy eyes and a pink nose. His eyes were glassy and he was slightly pale. He breathed in with a big sniff and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Hi,” he said pitifully.

“Oh sweetheart,” she paused, “you look like you don’t feel well at all.”

“I don’t. I feel terrible. I think it’s this weather.”

She swallowed a smile and reached out to brush his hair back. She laid her hand across his forehead and gave him a sympathetic look.

“I don’t think you have a fever, so that’s good.”

He immediately frowned. “Are you sure? It feels like I do.”

“I’ll tell you what, let’s get you comfortable on the couch and I’ll get the thermometer.” Her hand slid down to his cheek and he nodded slowly before following her into the living room. Every step seemed like a chore, and she turned away from him to hide a slight chuckle. 

“I have extra blankets and pillows for you here. Why don’t you lie down?”

“Thanks, love,” he said, promptly plopping down and sinking into the couch. He lifted his feet up with a labored groan and stretched out. She started to leave in search of the thermometer but heard his weak voice. “Aren’t you going to sit with me?” He looked up at her with his big blue eyes.

“Of course I will. I just want to take your temperature first.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s fine.”

“I’ll be right back,” she said, receiving a weak nod in return. She dashed into the kitchen to grab her thermometer from the medicine cabinet. She sterilized it and walked quickly back to him. He’d pulled a blanket over him and was covered up to his chin. “Are you comfortable?” she asked, kneeling on the floor in front of him.

“Kind of.”

“Well let’s see about your temperature. Open your mouth.” He complied, and she placed the thermometer under his tongue and looked down at her watch. I wonder if he can not talk for a whole three minutes. He slowly pulled his hand out from under the blanket and reached for hers. He seemed to want to be as close to her as possible, which she found very sweet.

“How long does this have to stay in?” he whined, readjusting the thermometer in his mouth.

“Well now it has to come out so we can start the three minutes over.” She pulled the thermometer out and shook it.

“Three minutes!”

“Three more minutes with no talking.” She glared at him to make sure he understood.

“How am I supposed to breathe?”

“Through your nose, dear.”

“Fine, but that seems like too long.” The thermometer went back to its place, and Philip closed his mouth into a tight frown. It was slightly less funny and slightly more annoying now, but she was glad to have an opportunity to take care of him. He’d done so much for her already, and the least she could do was tend to a cold… even if he’d turned to a large and needy infant. The three minutes were obviously agonizing for him, but much to her surprise, he made it.

“Time’s up. Let’s have a look.” She pulled the thermometer out of his mouth gently and held it up so the light could shine through.

“How bad is it?” he asked, sounding very concerned.

“Thirty-seven point one degrees.” She was working hard to stifle a laugh.

“I knew I had a fever,” he said, any hints of congestion momentarily disappearing from his voice.

“Is that really considered a fever?”

“Yes, it is! Anything over thirty-seven.” He seemed very determined to have a fever, so she decided it was best to let him think he did. The path of least resistance would probably be the path of least headache for her.

“Of course, sweetheart. Is anything else bothering you?” His obstinate demeanor dissolved into a sickly one, and he let out a weak cough.

“My throat hurts from coughing.”

“I’ll go get something to help with the fever and sore throat, and I’ll be right back.”

“Okay. Hurry,” he said, pulling the quilt back up to his chin. She wondered what the rush was. Was his non-existent fever going to cause him to melt in the thirty seconds it would normally take her to get something from the kitchen? She rolled her eyes once her back was turned and went for the kitchen.

“I have some pain relievers that will help with a fever and some cough sweets for your throat.” He sat up slowly and reached out for the pain relievers and the glass of water. He swallowed them with a loud gulp and made a pained face. She passed him the box of cough sweets, and he took one before passing her the box to place on the side table. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“Could you just sit with me?”

“Sure! I’ll just grab my book.” She went to stand, but was once again stopped by a weak, cracking voice.

“Couldn’t we talk instead?” He sounded like he was pleading with her, and even though she knew he was putting on, she couldn’t find it in herself to say no. She nodded, and he gave her a weak smile.

“Why don’t I sit here, and you can lay your head in my lap?” she asked, motioning to where his head was currently resting. He immediately perked up and moved to make space for her. She pulled a pillow over her lap and pulled his shoulder so he would lay down.

“This is much better,” he croaked out as he turned on his side and curled up slightly. Even though he was being annoyingly dramatic, she couldn’t help but find this kind of adorable, a grown man rendered completely helpless by a minor cold. They talked about classes and almost all traces of ill health disappeared when the upcoming cricket season came up. Her hands went mindlessly to play with his hair, something he loved even when he wasn’t sick. He murmured slightly at the contact and snuggled closer into her side. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

“There’s so much pressure. It feels like my face is going to explode.”

But maybe it is…

“I’m sorry.” She spoke slowly and deliberately. “Would it help to lie on your back?”

“Maybe. I guess I’ll try.” He lazily flipped over onto his back, and stared up at her with a pained look. “I don’t think it’s helping.”

“Just give it a little time.” He’d always been an example of patience, but now it seemed to be in short supply.

“And my throat still hurts.”

“Do you think some tea might help?” she blurted out, the pitch of her voice getting much higher with each word.

“That might help. Would you make some?”

“Sure.”

“Can you put extra milk and sugar in mine?” He sounded exactly like a child, and she braced herself for the response to what she was about to tell him. 

“Sweetheart… Dairy is really bad for colds. Drinking it black with some honey would probably be best.”

“No milk or sugar? Is there a point to the tea then?”

Deep breaths, Theresa…

“Do you want me to make it or not?”

“I guess so. Can I have extra honey, then?” He looked up at her pleadingly and she relented.

“Extra honey it is.”

He sat up so she could stand and promptly laid back down. She made quick work of brewing the tea and poured two cups, one for each of them. She thought about adding her usual milk and sugar, but decided this might get some pushback from her patient. Instead, she took hers with just honey, exactly like his.

“Here we are. You’ll have to sit up.” He pushed himself up to sit, but not without a chorus of dramatic grumbling. He settled himself, and Theresa channeled enormous amounts of self-control to avoid laughing at the absolute state of his hair. Some parts were sticking up in multiple directions while some were plastered to his face. She took a deep breath to maintain her composure and handed him his tea.

“Thank you,” he croaked out as he inspected the tea closely. She noted that his voice was much more strained than it was just a few minutes ago. He took a small sip and his dissatisfaction with the taste was immediately apparent on his face.

“I’m taking mine the same way, so you won’t have to suffer alone.” She took the seat beside him and sipped her tea quietly. He was rather less subtle about his tea drinking, making disapproving sounds or shaking his head after every sip. “Even if it doesn’t taste great, Philip, it will help your throat.”

“I guess you’re right.” He finished his tea and passed her the empty mug to take to the kitchen. “Theresa, my back hurts.” He was still seated, and pressing his hands into his lower back. She knew this was a request to rub his back, which she didn’t mind… in theory.

“Do you think it would help if I gave you a back rub?”

“Would you?” he asked with a pleading voice.

“Of course.”

The back rub went almost exactly as she imagined. He told her it was too soft. Then he told her it was too hard. Then, when her hands were tired, he complained that it hadn’t lasted long enough.

The rest of the evening passed in a similar fashion. They sat. He complained. She contemplated homicide multiple times. She wondered how someone with such a sore throat mustered the strength to talk quite so much. When time for supper rolled around, she made him soup. She took breaks to check on him, and he expressed his displeasure at her not being near him for such a long period of time. “You’re not even sitting with me,” he’d whined as she explained that she hadn’t yet figured out how to be in two places at once.

After they ate, she sat down with him again. As she played in his hair, he informed her that she “wasn’t doing it the usual way” and should be making longer strokes. She was sure she hadn’t changed her hair playing technique, but she would try anything to appease him.

Eventually, there was an uncharacteristically long period of silence, and she leaned down to hear that his breathing had evened out. She hated to wake him, mostly because this was the most she’d liked him in several hours, but she knew she shouldn’t let him sleep for too long.

“Philip? Sweetheart?” She patted him on the arm and when there was no response she gently shook him.

“Hmm what?” He sleepily raised his head up to look at her.

“You fell asleep.”

“Oh.” He seemed wholly unconcerned by this fact and laid his head back down.

“Don’t you think we should get you somewhere where you can sleep more comfortably?” He didn’t respond for a few seconds, but turned onto his back so he could look up at her.

“Do you think I could stay here?” He looked up at her with those cursed blue eyes that made her melt.

“On my couch? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in your bed?” She wondered why anyone who felt as bad as he claimed to would want to sleep on an old couch.

“But…but you won’t be there.” As annoying as he’d been all day, her the familiar butterflies returned to her stomach. He just wanted to be near her.

“All right. Let’s get you settled in then.” She stood and went to fetch anything he might need during the night. A glass of water, more throat lozenges, and more tissues, she brought all of them back and placed them within arm’s reach. She tucked his blankets tightly around him and made sure his pillows were properly fluffed. She knelt down to be eye level with him. “Okay, that should be everything you need. Do you think you’ll be all right out here?” He gave a hesitant nod. “Good. I’ll be just down the hall if there’s anything you need. She knew this might end in her being woken up incessantly, but she was willing to do it. He’d been so wonderful to her and she could manage a night with less sleep.

“Thank you for everything, Theresa.” She smiled in response.

“Now try to get some sleep.” She brushed the hair away from his forehead and placed a kiss there before turning out the lights and walking towards her room.

“Theresa,” she heard him call out across the apartment. What could he possibly want now?

“Yes?”

“I love you,” he said softly, causing her heart to melt. She knew she was done for if he still made her weak at the knees after today.

“And I love you.”


	11. Chapter 11

Theresa bent down and pulled a picture-perfect roast chicken out of the oven. She breathed a sigh of relief as she set it down on the counter. She and Philip had been studying almost nonstop for the past couple weeks, and they’d set tonight aside to spend time together. He’d asked if she wanted to go out, but she just wanted time alone with him.

“I’m almost finished in here,” she called out from the kitchen. She’d made him wait at her dining table, which was probably too small to comfortably hold everything for a dinner, but they could squeeze. She’d wanted to surprise him with his favorite meal, and she would do it with or without a proper dining table.

“I can’t wait,” he said earnestly but quietly. He’d been slightly subdued for the past few days, not his normal bubbly self. She’d assumed it was from the stress of school, but he’d been stressed before and never acted like this. It made her worry, and she’d decided she had to talk to him about it. “Are you sure I can’t help you in there?”, he asked, sounding unsure of himself. She heard him stand up from his chair, and she rushed to meet him before he could get into the kitchen.

“I’ve got it. Really. I’m almost finished.” She placed her open hands on his chest and pushed him backwards softly towards the dining room table.

“Okay. If you’re sure. I just wanted to… never mind. I’ll be patient.” He was smiling, but she could feel that it wasn’t sincere. Her eyebrows furrowed, but he leaned in to give her a kiss. “I’ll stay put until you finish.” He took his seat and smiled up at her unconvincingly.

“Okay. I’ll be back in just a minute.”

He was behaving so strangely. Something had to be wrong. He’d insisted that they study together all week, even though he knew she wouldn’t be able to pay much attention to him. “I know. That’s okay. We can just sit together,” he’d practically begged her. She was reluctant at first, but he’d sat in silence while they studied, only occasionally reaching out to hold her hand. Parting ways each night had been agonizing. Leaving each other had never been much fun, but he’d seemed genuinely upset, holding onto her a little tighter each time.

She’d wondered if he was upset about their impending separation. She’d be graduating soon, and moving to the city afterwards. She’d worried some about what their relationship might look like after she moved away. She knew she’d miss him like crazy, but she’d forced the thought into the back of her mind. Could he be thinking the same thing? She put the finishing touches on everything and joined him.

“This looks great! Is it Mum’s recipe?” he asked, standing to pull her chair out.

“It is. I was a little nervous about it, but hopefully it turned out all right.”

“It looks really great. I hope this wasn’t too much trouble.”

“It wasn’t trouble at all. Besides, I like cooking for you.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it before passing him the serving spoon.

They ate mostly in silence. She tried to start conversation several times, but he was, as he had been all week, unusually quiet.

“I’m going to go put a kettle on.” She stood from her seat and placed a kiss on the top of his head as she passed, sliding her hand across his shoulders as she went. He reached up for her hand and kissed it.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze before walking into the kitchen. He was just as affectionate as he’d always been, just as sweet. But something was wrong, and she needed to know what.

“The tea’s ready if you want to move to the couch?” she said, walking back in from the kitchen. He nodded and stood, following her. He sat and reached out for her as she settled comfortably into his side. She turned into him slightly and craned her neck to place a kiss on his cheek. He placed a hand on her cheek and pulled her close. “The tea’s going to get cold,” she whispered.

“That’s all right,” he said, leaning in to kiss her soundly on the lips. She pulled back slightly, knowing they shouldn’t get carried away before they had the chance to talk, but he closed the space between them again, kissing her eagerly.

“Philip,” she said, pulling back and placing her hands on his shoulders. His look of confusion turned to one of hurt, and he straightened up slightly, putting space between them. “Philip, I didn’t mean… that is… I just,” she stammered, stopping to look down at her hands. “We need to talk.” She looked over at him cautiously, and he cleared his throat.

“Talk? About what?” His hands were on his knees, and he looked painfully uncomfortable.

“Philip, I know… I’ve noticed that you’ve been a bit distant this week. Is everything all right?” The question, she knew, was ridiculous. Everything was very clearly not all right. “You can talk to me about whatever it is and…”

“You’re leaving, Theresa. You’re graduating and moving away,” he blurted out, shaking his head. “I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready for you to not be here… with me.”

She felt like her heart had been put into a vise. She knew her leaving would be unpleasant for both of them, but she hadn’t anticipated him being this upset.

“I know it will be different, sweetheart, but we won’t be so far away from each other. We can visit on weekends.” Now that she was describing what would soon be their new arrangement, she realized she hadn’t really thought about what it might be like. No more spontaneous late-night walks. No more stolen kisses between class periods. Everything would be planned to fit in a 48-hour window on weekends when he wasn’t too busy studying and she wasn’t too busy with work.

“Weekends visiting and calling from the phone in the dormitories sounds far from ideal, Theresa.”

She placed a hand on his knee and took in a deep breath. “You’re right.”

His hands were folded together tightly in his lap as he furiously blinked away tears. “I’m going to miss you so much,” he said, barely above a whisper. He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently, finally looking up at her for the first time.

“I’m going to miss you too, Philip. So much.” Her voice was shaking slightly with emotion. He went silent again, staring down at their hands that were now laced together.

“And what if…” He tapered off, looking away so she couldn’t see his face.

“What if?” she asked quietly, not wanting to push him too much. He let out a loud sigh as he turned back so she could see the tears collecting in his eyes. She wasn’t sure what to do, so she squeezed his hand harder and scooted closer to him.

“What if you go off to London and find someone better? Someone who already has a job and a flat?”

She was taken aback. She’d only considered that he might be sad she was moving away. It had never even crossed her mind that he might feel insecure in their relationship. She knew that wouldn’t happen, but he obviously wasn’t convinced.

“Philip.” She resituated herself on the couch so she was facing him straight on. “There is no question of me finding someone else, let alone someone better. You’re… it.”

“But what if…”

“There aren’t any buts, Philip.”

“How can you know that?” She didn’t know what to say in response. “I’m still in school. I don’t have a job. I don’t have any money. What if you find someone with those things who… who can really take care of you?”

She wasn’t quite sure what to say to him. Not because she thought he might be right, but because he was so wrong she couldn’t even count the ways.

“Philip… Do you really think that you don’t take care of me?”

“I don’t know. I try, but there are a lot of things I can’t do for you… that someone else could.”

“Philip,” she turned to face him, “There is nobody who could take care of me… love me the way you have.”

“But I can’t give you things, nice things that you deserve.”

“I don’t need things, Philip.”

“But what about if you want to go to the theater? Or to see the orchestra?”

“Philip, why are you worried about this? It doesn’t matter!”

“It does matter! You deserve… more.”

She let out a frustrated sigh.

“Philip, I don’t want anything more or different. Don’t you understand how much you mean to me? You held me while I sobbed when I told you about my mum. You’ve stayed with me and rubbed my back and held my hand when I had awful cramps. You love me even though I may not… even though I might not be able to have our children one day.” She stopped to blink away the tears that were in her eyes. “I don’t need things. I need you, no matter how much money you do or don’t have.” 

He took a moment to let her words sink in before looking up at her with bright blue eyes. “Do you really mean it?”

“Of course I do.” She placed a hand on his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. He reached for her waist and tugged her closer to him so she was almost on his lap, giving her a small height advantage. One of his hands moved to her hair and the other snaked around her waist, holding her as close to him as he possibly could.

“I love you,” he said hoarsely, pulling back and pushing a fallen strand of hair out of her face.

“I love you too,” she said, resting her forehead against his. “And this,” she leaned back slightly to straighten his hair, “is better than any trip to the orchestra, I’ll tell you that much.”

He let out a hearty laugh. “Well if that’s the case, I’ll be more than happy to come and kiss you in London.” He pulled her legs across his lap and she laid her head on his shoulder, snuggling tightly into his side.

“It’s a date.”


	12. Chapter 12

Philip carefully dialed the number he had now committed to memory. He whispered each digit quietly to himself, each with growing anticipation. As the rotary recoiled from the last digit, he heard a brief ring that was interrupted by the most beautiful sound he’d heard all day.

“Hello?” Theresa said on the other end of the line. She answered immediately, which told him she was waiting by the phone for him to call. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said with a relieved sigh.

“I’m sorry. Who is this?” He could hear a smile in her voice as she teased him, and it was just enough to paint a picture of her in his mind. He missed that smile.

“It’s me, your boyfriend.”

“Which one?”

“Oh, you know, soft hair and blue eyes. Does that ring a bell?”

“Hmm. You’ll have to be more specific.” He could hear her stifling a laugh.

“A little short,” he said, with a leading tone.

“Oh! Philip!”

She was fully laughing now, and he joined her, just wishing he could see her face.

“How are you doing, love?” she asked, her voice was warm and it made him feel calm.

“I’m doing well. I’ve been focusing on work a lot, and,” he paused, “missing you a lot.” He heard her sigh quietly.

“I’ve been missing you too.”

Moments of silence passed between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. This had become their new nightly ritual since she’d moved to London. He would call, she would answer, and they would talk, trying to recount the moments of their day so they didn’t feel so much distance between them.

“Well tell me about your day. How was work?” He wanted to change the subject. He only got so much time to talk to her, and he didn’t want to waste it being sad.

“It was wonderful. I really feel like I’m getting the hang of things. And everyone has been so lovely and helpful.”

“That’s great! Have you made any more friends? I remember the girl in the office next to yours. She seemed really nice.” He’d worried about her making friends in a totally new place. He knew how wonderful she was, but he worried that it was lost on others, especially in fast paced London.

“Oh yes! That’s Linda. She’s been so helpful. We went for lunch today and she brought along Robert. He’s been there for a few years.”

Without thinking, Philip felt his chest tighten at the mention of another man’s name. His heart rate picked up slightly as he searched for a response.

“That’s good to hear, so they’re all nice?”

“Very nice. We’re planning to go for dinner one night this week, so I may have to rain-check on our phone call.” She hesitated slightly and let out a deep breath. “Do you mind?”

“Oh no, sweetheart. I’m glad you have something fun planned!”

“Thanks. We can make the one the next night extra long to make up for lost time.”

“I’d like that.” He felt a sudden sadness at the thought of them leading totally separate lives. He wanted to be a part of her plans, to be friends with her friends. “Did you find someone to help you with your phone? I know that was giving you trouble.”

“Oh yeah! Bobby showed me a trick that really helped. He says those phones were designed to make calling someone as complicated as possible.”

“Bobby?”

“Oh. Sorry. Robert. Some people call him Bobby.”

“Oh.” The tightness in his chest returned, this time he recognized it as jealousy. She called him Bobby instead of Robert. His mind went to the worst possible scenarios at lightning speed, imagining every scenario in which she could become comfortable enough with her coworker to call him by a nickname. The silence between them grew heavy.

“Philip… are you still there?” she asked, timidly.

“Oh sorry. I’m here, love.”

“Are you excited for your visit?”

“I’m so excited to visit. I can’t wait to see you.” He had been thinking about it since she left. He’d been saving as much as he could to take her out for a nice dinner and drinks in the city. He wanted to spoil her, but her living in London made everything more complicated. He couldn’t take care of her when she was having cramps. He couldn’t make her tea when she was stressed. He couldn’t hold her hand and calm her after a visit home when her mum was doing poorly. He felt useless to her now, but this would be a chance for him to make up for lost time.

“Do you know what you want to do yet?”

“I have a rough itinerary in mind. It’s written right here actually. Looks like I have us penciled in to be kissing the whole time I’m there with a few breaks for eating and sleeping.”

“I can already feel my lips chapping,” she said through a laugh. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it, though.” He could hear her smile again, but it was interrupted by a yawn.

“You’re yawning. Are you tired?” He looked down at his watch and realized that it was getting rather late.

“A little bit.” He thought she should get some sleep, but he dreaded the end of their conversations before they even began.

“I could talk to you all night, but you should get some sleep, sweetheart.”

“You’re right,” she let out a quiet sigh, “I wish I could hug you right now.”

“I wish I could hug you too.” The words weren’t sufficient to convey how much he meant it, but they were all he had.

“Perhaps I’ll get to hug you in my dreams then.” He could picture her rolling her eyes at her own words, but he loved it.

“I hope so, but I have to warn you, the dream version of me is only half as handsome as the real me.”

“Well that’s still pretty handsome,” she said with a hint of laughter.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, duck.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

He listened for a few more moments before the line clicked silent. He set about his nightly routine of showering, brushing his teeth, and getting into bed. Mostly, he thought of Theresa and how much he missed her, but… He couldn’t help but think of Robert… Bobby. What if Bobby was the one who could give Theresa all of the things he couldn’t? _You’re being ridiculous, Philip. ___

__He tried his best to reassure himself, but the doubts remained._ _


	13. Chapter 13

Philip felt the train pull to a stop at Paddington station. He jumped to his feet even though the aisles of the crowded train were already packed full of antsy passengers. None, he thought, could be as antsy as him. He carefully retrieved his small suitcase and waited impatiently as he pushed his way gently through the crowd. Each step toward the door revealed more of the platform, and his heart quickened.

He searched frantically for a sign of Theresa. He knew she’d be waiting for him, but he was having trouble finding her on the crowded platform.

“Philip!” he heard a familiar voice call out. He turned his head in search of her, finally laying eyes on the love of his life.

“Theresa,” he almost whispered to himself, a huge smile spreading across his face. He did his best to maneuver gracefully through the packs of children and the slow-moving elderly people, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was wearing a bright red skirt suit with black heels that made her legs look a mile long. She looked stunning, and the new clothes were only part of it. She was almost glowing with… confidence?

Successfully breaking through the thick of the crowd, he broke into a run. He was just a few steps away from her when he dropped his bag and scooped her up in a hug, his arms encircling her waist. In his excitement, he spun her around quickly, eliciting a slight squeal and a laugh. He returned her to the ground, only to close the space between them again, this time with a kiss. He thought briefly about her aversion of public affection until she kissed him back, her hands going to the lapels of his jacket and pulling him closer.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said breathlessly, straightening the hair that had fallen into his face. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he kissed her again. “Philip, you’re going to make me untidy,” she said with a chuckle, reaching down to straighten her jacket.

“Sorry. I just missed you so much.” He stepped back slightly, but his hands were still resting on her waist.

“I missed you too,” she said, fiddling with his tie. “Are you ready to go to dinner?”

“I have this suitcase that I should probably leave at your apartment?”

She looked down at her watch and looked back up with a slight grimace. “The reservation is in 20 minutes. I don’t think we’ll have time.” His heart sank at the thought of having to drag his suitcase into a nice restaurant. “You should be able to check it at the restaurant. It’ll be fine,” she said with a relaxed shrug. He looked down at his old duffel bag, immediately feeling self-conscious about his decidedly immature luggage. “We should go ahead to the tube.”

He grabbed his bag and walked briskly as she fell into step beside him. She reached for his hand as they walked, and they laced their fingers together loosely. He looked over at her every few steps, and she seemed to have a permanent smile etched onto her face.

“I’m so excited for dinner. I’ve heard a lot about The Ivy, but I’ve never actually been,” she said excitedly. He smiled over at her, now even more excited to take her for a nice dinner. He’d been saving for a while, and he wanted her to have a good time.

He boarded the Tube with his bag and Theresa in tow. Once he settled into his seat, she cuddled close into his side, turning and placing a kiss on his cheek. The Tube ride and the walk to the restaurant were short and filled with conversation about her day at work. He listened happily, smiling at how content she seemed.

“Here we are,” she said as they rounded the corner to the restaurant. He looked down at his old and ratty duffel again and wished with everything he had that he could make it disappear. Walking through the doors of the restaurant made it even worse as he saw men in suits much nicer than his. Philip looked up to see Theresa, clearly discussing his luggage with the man at the coat check counter. The man gave her a nod and she waved him over.

“We don’t usually check luggage,” the man said with a thoroughly judgmental tone that caused Philip to cringe. Why hadn’t he thought of this before?

“We really appreciate it,” Theresa said, flashing a smile at Philip. He felt like an idiot, but he was glad to be rid of the wretched thing for the moment. It was just a small hiccup in what he was hoping would be a perfect night.

Philip rushed around behind the waiter so he could get to Theresa’s chair in time to pull it out for her.

“Thank you,” she said shyly as he took a seat across the table from her.

The dinner was wonderful. They moved easily back into their old routine of easy conversation about work and school and anything that came to mind. Conversations on the phone were nice, but he missed being with her, seeing her smile.

“That was wonderful. I couldn’t eat another bite,” he said, tossing his crumpled napkin onto an empty plate.

“Well do you think you have room for a drink or two?”

“A drink?”

“Yeah. Some friends from work are at a pub close to here, and they really wanted to meet you.”

He didn’t know what to say. He’d been looking forward to some time alone with her, but he also wanted to do what made her happy.

“It shouldn’t take too long, and it’ll be fun. Then we can have some time alone after,” she said with a playful smile.

“Well how could I say no to that?” he said with a wink.

“Oh good. I’m so excited for them to meet you.”

Their conversation about drinks was interrupted by a waiter who placed their check in the middle of the table.

“Take your time with this,” the waiter said, bowing slightly before walking away. Before he had time to lift a finger, Theresa had already grabbed the check and reached for her bag.

“Theresa, you don’t…”

“No, it’s all right, sweetheart.”

“But I can…”

“Really, Philip, I’ve got this one,” she said with a nervous smile.

“Um. Okay,” he choked out, wishing he knew what to say to stop her from paying for their dinner. He felt utterly pathetic. What must she think of him to assume he couldn’t afford a simple dinner? Now he would have to leave the restaurant, the stupid duffel in tow, and go get drinks with her work friends who would certainly see him as an immature kid who had no business trying to date someone like Theresa.

“Are you ready?” she asked timidly. Could she sense his insecurity?

“Yes. Let’s go!” he said energetically, trying to shake off the tension.

He had to endure the judgmental glare of the coat checker one last time before they were on their way to the pub.

“So who am I meeting at drinks?” he said, smiling over at her.

“Well you will meet Linda. She’s wonderful.”

“Oh yeah. I remember Linda.” He stepped closer to her and wrapped his arm around her waist as they walked, which earned him a smile.

“And Caroline. She started with me, and we’ve been commiserating about being the new ones.”

“Commiserating is always a good place to start a friendship,” he said with a chuckle.

“And Bobby, of course. He’s the one who helped me with my phone.”

“Oh, right.” He paused slightly at the name. “Well I’m excited to meet all of them.” What he was really excited for was this outing to be over.

They pushed through the door of the pub hand-in-hand. Theresa immediately spotted her friends and pulled Philip in their direction. He scanned the crowd and located what must have been Theresa’s friends. There were two young women in smart skirt suits standing with a man in a very nice suit who was quite tall.

“Theresa!” the tall man said, waving at them. Well that must be Bobby. Philip looked Bobby up and down. In addition to the nice suit and the height, Bobby was also very handsome and quite muscular. The jealousy he’d been fighting off rose up again.

“Hi, everyone!” Theresa said stepping up to the tall table where her friends were standing. He tried his best to quickly place his bag underneath so nobody would notice it. “This is Philip.” Theresa beamed over at him. “And this is Linda, Caroline, and Bobby,” she said, pointing to each of them.

Linda and Caroline both nodded at him politely, but Bobby reached out to shake Philip’s hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Philip,” Bobby said with a posh accent that Philip really should have expected at this point. He was perfect in every other way, so of course he had a better accent.

“Yes, we’ve heard a lot about you,” Linda said with a smile in Theresa’s direction.

“It’s wonderful to meet all of you, too,” Philip said, suddenly very aware of a northern accent he’d never really worried about before.

“Are you planning to move in here?” Bobby asked, gesturing at the duffel bag that Philip was now wishing he could throw off of a sheer cliff. He chuckled slightly.

“Oh it’s not so bad here. Better than some of the stories I’ve heard about London flats,” he said in an attempt at humor. He got four enthusiastic laughs and breathed a sigh of relief.

“My flat was out of the way, so it was our third wheel for dinner,” Theresa said touching his arm gently. He was slightly taken aback to see her joking so easily. He knew she had a sharp sense of humor, but that was mostly reserved for when she was alone with him or around her parents.

The whole evening was a surprise to him. Theresa seemed like a very different person, not in a bad way, but she appeared to be so much more confident in herself. She joked and laughed through two rounds of drinks. Everyone was perfectly nice, and Philip liked all of them. But there was something about the way Bobby looked at Theresa that made him feel unsettled. Philip spent the whole evening going through all of the possible scenarios of how Bobby would win Theresa over. Maybe she would decide that she wanted someone older who could actually buy her a nice dinner? Maybe she would decide she wanted someone taller? He tried his best to stop thinking about it, but images of them together kept forcing their way in. He was pulled from his thoughts by the feeling of Theresa’s hand on his back.

“Are you ready to go?” Theresa asked, leaning into his side slightly.

“Sure,” he said with a smile that he hoped would disguise how he was really feeling.

Theresa announced to the table that they were leaving, which triggered a chain of goodbyes and nice to meet yous. When Philip made it to Bobby, they exchanged another awkward handshake and a weird nod. Philip was certain there was a tension between them, but he was less certain that it wasn’t all in his mind.

“Theresa, will you be joining us for dinner on Sunday evening?” Bobby asked, touching her shoulder to get her attention. It was innocent, but Philip felt his temperature rise.

“Of course. Could you call me when you know where we’re meeting?”

“Sure!” Bobby said enthusiastically.

A final round of waves set them free, and Philip pulled his duffel bag along behind them. He tried to carry on as normal in hopes of concealing his apprehension and… anger from Theresa. He wasn’t angry with her, at least he didn’t think he was, but he couldn’t deny the rage that was building. This evening hadn’t gone at all the way he’d planned. He only got to see Theresa every so often, and now the visit had completely gone off the rails. The duffel, the bill she wouldn’t let him pay, Bobby, all of it was stewing together to infuriate him, and the more he thought about it, the worse it got.

They were at the door to Theresa’s flat now as she fidgeted with her keys. She finally found the right one and opened the door. The inside looked exactly like he’d imagined it would. Clean, small with what appeared to be some relatively new furniture. It was a simple apartment, but still nice.

“This is really nice,” he said, peering around.

“Thanks. It’s not much, but I’m settling in.”

“It’s lovely, really,” he said, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on her lips. “Where should I dispose of this dreadful bag?”

“I’m really sorry you had to drag that around all night.”

“It’s fine. I just wish it wasn’t so kiddish. I’m sure your friends thought I was weird.”

“Oh, I’m sure they didn’t notice, Philip,” she said earnestly, but unconvincingly. “Your birthday’s coming up. I could buy you some new luggage if you want?”

Philip felt the anger rise in his chest again at her suggestion. “I don’t need you to buy me anything, Theresa,” he said rather curtly. He turned to her, finding a shocked expression on her face.

“Wha.. What do you mean?”

He let out a frustrated huff and tossed his duffel bag on the floor. “I don’t need you to buy me luggage, and I don’t need you to buy my dinner.”

“I don’t understand, Philip?” She seemed genuinely taken aback, which almost made him angrier.

“Well I’m sure you don’t understand what it’s like to have your dinner paid for by your girlfriend because she doesn’t think you can afford it.”

“Philip, I didn’t think that. I was just trying to… I just thought I would since I’m making money,” Theresa said, still looking confused. “I didn’t think it would make you angry.”

“Well it did! So did dragging around this stupid bad and being forced to make a fool of myself in front of your work friends.” He got louder with every word, but he was too upset to care.

“Philip, what are you talking about?” She made a move to step towards him, but he held his hand up to her. Her face fell, and he felt a slight tug in his chest.

“It’s just…it’s my job to pay for dinners, and you really embarrassed me.” He scrubbed his hand over his face in frustration.

“Your job? I thought this was a partnership, Philip. I didn’t think me paying for one dinner would be the end of the world.”

“Well Theresa, now that you have your fancy job and your fancy friends, I guess you can just do what you please without any regard for what I think?”

“You know I care what you think, Philip. I was just trying to do something nice!” She exclaimed, clearly becoming frustrated with him.

“I’m not sure you do care what I think,” he paused and looked her in the eye, “You’re just different, Theresa.”

“Different? How?” She seemed to transition from frustrated to angry at the accusation.

“Just different. You act different. You look different. You seem,” he considered his words and continued, “a little more self-important than I remember.”

“Self-important!” She looked stunned.

“Yes. Enough to feel like you can unilaterally decide that you get to pay for dates now.”

“Philip, I am not going to apologize for paying for dinner. Maybe we should have talked about it before, but I really didn’t think you’d get this upset.” Her voice cracked slightly on the last word. “I didn’t think me feeling a little bit more comfortable in my own skin would make you this angry.”

“Oh, that is ridiculous, Theresa,” he said with a dismissive tone, causing her to wince slightly. “It has nothing at all to do with that.” He was pacing now. “And then, of course, we had to parade me in front of your accomplished friends so we could see how pathetic I am by comparison.”

“They didn’t think that, and I certainly don’t think that. Philip, we’ve already talked about this! It’s not like you’re some sort of bum. You’re still in school. There’s nothing embarrassing about that!”

“Well you have them now, with their posh accents and their money. I have no idea what you need me for.”

“You’re not making any sense now, Philip! You know I love _you_.”

“Well at least maybe they can pay for their own dinners,” he all but spat out. “I’m sure Bobby could take you to the Ivy,” he said with a snide tone. “I’m sure you’d love that.”

She looked up at him, hurt apparent on her face. “Philip,” she paused and sniffed slightly, obviously fighting off tears now, “I don’t know what you _think_ about Bobby, but it’s certainly a figment of your own imagination.” She swallowed hard and straightened up slightly. “I was going to tell you this anyway, but I guess now is as good a time as any.” She paused slightly and shuffled her feet. “Bobby did ask me out before he knew about you. It wasn’t anything underhanded, and he’s been a total gentleman about it. Either way, I turned him down.”

“Now why would you do that? He checks all your boxes. He’s tall. He’s good looking. He has money. What’s stopping you?” After the words left his mouth, he immediately thought better of them, but it was too late now. She might not have looked any different if someone had punched her directly in the stomach. She took a few long moments to process what he said and looked up at him with a pained expression.

“Well I told him I had a wonderful boyfriend… one who I never thought would behave like you just did.” He could hear the emotion in her voice, but she didn’t cry. “One who I never thought would be angry with me for being more confident in myself.” She reached up to wipe two tears away, and it snapped him out of his rage.

“Theresa I’m…” He started to apologize, but she held her hand up this time. She crossed her arms tightly, her eyes trained on the floor.

“I think I’m going to bed,” she said before clearing her throat. “I’ve made up the couch for you. There are extra blankets in the closet if you need some, and there’s a bathroom right down the hall.”

“You’re just going to go to bed?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes. We both need a break before we say… something else we might wish we hadn’t.” Her voice broke on the last word, and he felt thoroughly awful.

“Um… Okay.” He wasn’t sure whether to fight or let her be, but she seemed extremely determined that the conversation was over.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, turning on her heels and padding quickly down the hallway to her bedroom. She glanced back at him with sad eyes before pushing her door open and walking in. When he heard it click shut, he walked over and fell onto the couch. He didn’t know what had come over him, but he knew he’d really messed up this time.

He busied himself with getting ready for bed, but his mind was racing. He snuck back to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth, feeling like a criminal. When he finished, he paused by her bedroom door and was sure he could hear her crying. His whole night was spent tossing and turning on the couch and thinking about what a prat he’d been. He’d totally overreacted to everything. When he thought back on dinner and drinks, he realized there was no reason for him to be angry with her. She’d probably just paid for dinner to be nice and take the pressure off of him. She really seemed excited to introduce him to her friends, and he’d made a fool of himself. Then he’d basically accused her of cheating on him… not in so many words, but very nearly.

Finally, he thought about what she said. He knew he was worried about her being away from him, but he’d never considered what it might mean for her to grow and change in a new place. She certainly did seem more confident. What if she was right? And worse, what if she really didn’t need him anymore?

When morning rolled around, he decided he might as well get up. He walked to the bathroom to change, and when he came out he could hear her stirring in her room. By the time he’d made it back to his spot on the couch, he heard her door open and soft steps coming down the hallway. He stood and turned to find a very tired-looking Theresa. She had changed into casual clothes, but her eyes were red and slightly puffy. She crossed her arms again.

“Hi,” she said softly, a slight scratchiness in her voice.

“Theresa. I’ve been thinking, and I really need to apologize. I should…”

“Philip,” she interrupted him, “I think we should cut this weekend short.”

“What?” His chest tightened, and he felt the blood drain from his face. “Theresa, we can talk through this if I could just…”

“No… I don’t think so. I need some time to think about things, and I think it might be best to take some time apart.”

“But…”

“Philip, I really think it’s for the best.”

He wanted to fight her on this, to tell her they could work it out, but her mind seemed to be made up. “Okay. Um… so I guess I should leave then.”

“I think so.” She uncrossed her arms briefly, but only to wipe a tear that had escaped onto her cheek. He wanted desperately to reach out for her and tell her things would be all right, but this time he was the one who had made her cry. This time it was his fault.

“I’ll just grab my stuff.” He walked slowly over to the couch and gathered all of his things into his bag. He felt like crying himself now. What did this mean? Was she going to break up with him? Had he really just ruined this over nothing? He felt his stomach turn at the thought. With all of his things packed, he went back to meet her at the door.

“Should I… can I call you later?” He choked out, wanting desperately to have some sort of hope to hold onto.

“I’ll call you if that’s okay?”

He nodded and looked around her apartment awkwardly, hoping to prolong their time together.

“I’m so, so sorry, Theresa,” he said, totally at a loss for words.

“I know.”

He moved to hug her, but she stepped back and shook her head slightly.

“Sorry. I’ll just…” He turned the door knob and pulled it open. “I’ll talk to you later?”

She nodded and stepped back to make room for him to leave.

As he stepped out onto the street, he felt the cool morning air hit his face.

What had he done?


	14. Chapter 14

Philip mindlessly stirred his lukewarm tea. He stared at the center of the cup and stirred until the liquid formed a funnel before switching directions. He wasn’t sure now why he’d even put a kettle on. He didn’t really want tea. He wanted his phone to ring.

It had been a week since they’d spoken to each other, the longest time since they’d started dating, and he felt like he was losing his mind. He glanced over at the phone, for what was certainly the billionth time that day, and willed it to ring, willed Theresa to forgive him. He’d hardly left his flat all week, fearing he might miss her call, so he sat… and waited.

He reached for the text book sitting on his end table. He’d tried and failed to do school work all week, but figured he’d give it another shot. He nervously tapped a pencil on the corner of the book and got through a few lines before his mind wandered back to Theresa. He’d replayed that night a million times in his head. He hadn’t been able to shake the look on her face when she told him she needed some time away from him. He slammed the book shut and tossed it haphazardly onto the table.

He looked up at the clock to see it was half past six. Theresa was probably out for dinner with friends from work… probably having fun and not thinking of him. He leaned forward and placed his head in his hands, his leg shaking nervously and causing his whole body to tremble. A loud ring filled the living room, and he leapt to his feet. Could it be Theresa? He tried to calm his nerves as he ran across the room to his phone.

“Hello?” He said with a questioning inflection. He held his breath.

“Philip. Hi,” Theresa said quietly.

“Hi,” he said, trying his best not to sound overly excited. He’d been waiting for her call all week, and now he didn’t know what to do.

“I um… I was wondering if you… could come to London?”

He gave her a few seconds because he could tell she had more to say.

“I’ve been thinking, and… we should talk,” she said, her voice shaking slightly.

His heart nearly exploded. He didn’t know whether to be excited or nervous. Was this good or bad? “When… would work for you?”

“Would now be okay?” she asked timidly.

“Sure,” he looked down at his watch, “if I hurry, I could catch the next train. “

“That would be great,” she paused, “if it’s not too much trouble?”

“Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He took stock of his appearance, no tie and uncombed hair. He would need to change into a fresh shirt at the very least. 

“Thanks, Philip. I’ll see you then,” she said before he heard the line click.

Philip all but threw the phone back on the receiver and ran for a change of clothes before sprinting to the train station.

________________________________________________

Theresa straightened the pillows on her sofa for the third time since she called Philip. Her apartment was spotless, but she needed something to occupy her thoughts. She checked the clock again. It was only three minutes later than the last time she checked. He was probably on the train by now, and the thought made her stomach do flips. The whole week had been a nightmare. She spent half of her time being angry with Philip and the other half worrying that she might lose him.

She never thought they’d be in a situation like this. They’d had almost no conflict since they started dating, and certainly nothing that made her question their future together. He’d been almost perfect since they met, and all of this was completely jarring for her. She’d been so excited to share her new life with him, to show him that she was doing well, and it had all gone wrong. She wanted him to be proud of her, to love the confidence she’d gained, but he seemed to resent it.

Over the course of the week, she’d realized this was the first time she’d cared enough about someone to fight with them. Before Philip, a minor disagreement was enough to make her decide a guy wasn’t for her, but obviously, Philip was different. She was sure that no matter how angry she got with him, she’d always want to work things out because her love for him would always be stronger. Things would have to change, though. They couldn’t go on the way things were.

She decided to cook something for dinner. She didn’t feel much like eating, but it was a welcome distraction from sitting and waiting. She wondered if Philip had anything to eat yet and made some extra just in case. Just as she was putting her dishes away, she heard him knocking at the door. Her chest tightened, and she looked down to make sure her clothes were okay. “Too late for that now,” she mumbled to herself.

She walked through the kitchen to the living area and took a final deep breath before opening the door. Philip was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with noticeable dark circles under his eyes to tell her he’d had as much trouble sleeping as she had. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly to form a weak smile. “Hey,” he said softly. All she wanted to do was reach out and hug him, but she knew she shouldn’t. Instead, she leaned forward slightly so they could both kiss each other on the cheek. When she pulled back, she could see that the weak smile had turned into a much bigger one that melted her heart. She’d gone into this with the intention to be stern with him, but now she saw it would be harder than she expected. She stepped out of the way so he could walk in.

“Have you eaten anything yet? I made extra for dinner if you haven’t,” she said, nervously.

“I ate on the train, but that was really thoughtful of you.”

She fiddled with the hem of her shirt and wondered how to proceed. Everything felt tense. “Well how about a cuppa?”

“That would be great.”

“I just got a bag of sugar. Do you think that will be enough?” she quipped, looking back at him as she walked to the kitchen. She’d always given him a hard time about how much sugar he put into his tea.

He chuckled. “I suppose I’ll make do with less.”

She scurried around the kitchen to prepare the kettle while an uncomfortable silence filled the room. She stole glances at him every so often and felt a tug in her chest. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept well all week, and he was awkwardly standing up straight near the corner of the room rather than his normal position leaning on the counter. His body language told her he was uneasy, and she couldn’t stand it.

“What kind do you want,” she asked, feeling an urgent need to break the silence between them.

“Let’s do the Earl Grey. I know that one’s your favourite,” he said with a half-smile. He looked very cute, eye bags and all. 

She measured out the leaves and tossed them in before putting everything on a tray. She went to pick it up, but she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“I can carry that.”

She stepped back slightly and let him pick up the tea tray before following him into the living room. He set the tea tray down, and they each took a seat on the sofa, a respectable distance between them.

“This needs a couple more minutes to steep,” she said, looking down at her watch. She didn’t want to plunge into the awkward conversation before they’d even had the chance to pour their tea, so she waited and fiddled with the knob on her watch.

“Is this a new tea set?” he asked, probably trying to break the strange tension.

“It is. I got a different one for casual use.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the inanity of this conversation.

“I like it. It seems… sturdy,” he forced out, clearly struggling to think of things to say, too.

A few more moments of silence passed before she decided she’d had enough of the silence and would settle for weaker tea.

“That’s probably fine,” she said reaching for the strainer and the tea pot. She poured a cup for both of them, and they went about adding their own milk and sugar. They sipped the tea in silence for a few moments before Philip spoke.

“Theresa, I really want to apologize for… everything. I’m embarrassed by the way I spoke to you,” he trailed off, looking rather diminished.

She was surprised that he jumped straight in. She’d expected some beating around the bush first.

“I know,” she said, looking down at the floor, “But we should talk about what happened.”

“Right,” he said staring down at the tea cup in his hands.

“And I think the money situation is a good place to start.” She wasn’t used to being the one to dictate their conversation, but she was determined to get some answers from him. “I think it would be good for us to come to some sort of understanding about it because it seemed to really upset you.” She looked up at him hoping for some clarification. He swirled the half empty tea cup before slowly raising his eyes to meat hers.

“I don’t know. I just feel like that’s my responsibility.” He paused and looked down before continuing, “And I’d saved up. I was just excited to take you somewhere nice.”

She felt the familiar tug in her chest. Without meaning to, she’d stepped all over his hard work and planning. “Philip, I didn’t even think… I was just trying to take the pressure off of you.”

“I know,” he said with an understanding smile. “It was just hard to process when I know you’re always surrounded by men who’d love to take you out and would have no trouble paying for it.” His face fell slightly.

This, she thought, was the root of the problem. She’d never anticipated him being the one to feel insecure in their relationship. She’d always assumed that role.

“I would be perfectly content to eat beans on toast in your flat if it means I get to be with you. I don’t need anything fancy, Philip.” He gave her his first real smile of the evening, and she smiled back. “But I am working now, and I can pay for things. I don’t think that should always fall on you.” Nerves shot through her, and she hesitated before looking up for a response from him. 

“But you deserve it, and I should be able to handle it,” he protested, his short-lived smile turning into a look of concern.

“We have our whole lives for that, but right now, this is what would work for both of us.”

He seemed to mull it over for a moment and conceded, “You’re probably right,” he paused, “but I want to be able to do nice things for you sometimes.”

It sounded almost like a question, and she took her chance to reassure him. “You can always do nice things for me, and I love that you want to. Money is something we never really had to think about before, but we do now, and we will in the future.”

He nodded softly, swallowing a sip of tea. “I never want money to be a source of conflict for us, which I guess is why I never wanted you to worry about paying for things. Can we agree that I get to pay for things sometimes because I want to, but we can share some of the responsibility?” 

“That sounds fair,” she said with a relieved smile. “We will just have to do a better job of communicating about this. I don’t want us to fight about money.”

“Me neither. I hate fighting with you,” he said as if he were recalling the pain of the last week all at once. “And I shouldn’t have said what I did about Bobby. I know that was… uncalled for.”

The sincerity in his voice made it hard for her to belabor the point. It had hurt her for him to suggest that she might be anything other than totally faithful to him.

“If I’m honest,” she paused and gathered her strength, “it was hurtful to hear that from you.” She immediately looked down, almost feeling guilty for telling him how she felt. She looked up again and saw the dejected look on his face. “But it was in the heat of an argument.”

“It’s not an excuse,” he said solemnly, reaching out to place his empty tea cup on the table. “I’ve replayed everything a million times, and I wish I hadn’t said it.”

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it.”

He smiled weakly with almost watery eyes, and she reached out to pat his knee.

“The thing that has really been troubling me,” she drew in a deep breath to settle her nerves, “was that I was really excited for you to visit and see my life here. I wanted you to be proud of me and happy for me, and you just… weren’t.” There was a lump in her throat now that was threatening to lead to tears. She’d shed enough of them over this for the past week, but the idea still made her heart ache.

All of the color seemed to drain from Philip’s face. “I don’t know how I…I didn’t mean…” He struggled for words, so she took the chance to explain herself.

“It’s just… You seemed upset that I didn’t need you in some of the ways I have before. This can’t work if you want me to always be the same shy and timid person I was when we met.” A tear escaped, and she reached up quickly to brush it away. 

Abject horror was the only thing she could think of to describe the look on his face. He scooted closer and took her hands, leaning down to kiss each one. He started to speak and stopped several times before anything actually came out.

“Love, I am so, so proud of you. I am so thrilled that you feel confident and comfortable here. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to know that you’re happy.” He scooted even closer and gently wiped another tear away with his thumb. “I was just scared. I didn’t want to become a… burden for you. I should have told you before, but I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“Do you mean it?” she asked tearfully.

“Of course I do,” he said as he pulled her into a hug. She snuggled into him and felt herself relax for the first time since this whole thing began.

“I love you so much, Philip. You never have to worry about that,” she whispered as she nuzzled her face into his neck.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he said, placing a kiss in her hair. They stayed that way for a while, neither one wanting to leave the comfort of each other’s arms. She tucked her legs underneath her and laid her head on his chest.

“There were so many times I wanted to call you this week,” she said, lifting her head slightly to look at him.

He gave a pained smile and kissed her forehead. “What have I missed?” he asked, tightening his arm around her.

They talked about her week, and what happened at work. He told her about his studies… the things he’d been able to finish, anyway. She knew she’d missed him, but she didn’t know how much until now.

“What time is it?” she asked, suddenly realizing how late it could be.

“Quarter after eleven,” he said, lifting his arm from around her to look at his watch.

“Gosh, It’s getting late.” She hadn’t thought much past their conversation, and now it was too late for him to go home… and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to go home. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to be anywhere but right next to her.

“Do you know what the train schedule is like this late?” he asked, sitting up slightly.

“I don’t,” she paused to consider her options, “But you could just stay the night… here?”

“You don’t mind?” he asked sincerely.

“I don’t… I think I’d actually prefer it. I’ve missed you,” she said, eliciting a wide grin from him.

“Does that mean we can talk for a little longer before bed?” he asked, sounding hopeful. “I can sleep on the couch. It’s quite comfortable.” He bounced up and down slightly to test it and smiled. But the thought of making up the couch and leaving him out there filled her with dread.

“Of course. Do you need anything? I know you ate on the train, but I do still have leftovers from dinner.”

“That actually sounds great. I don’t know what you made, but I’m sure it’s better than what I had on the train,” he said with a slight shudder.

“I’ll heat some up for you.” she said with a slight chuckle.

“Thanks. I’m going to run to the bathroom,” he said before jumping up to help her up from the sofa. He grabbed her waist and pulled her close for a kiss. She melted into his arms, almost forgetting about the leftovers entirely.

“Food,” she said pulling away reluctantly. He gave a devilish smile before turning and making his way down the hall.

She unwrapped the leftovers she’d set aside for him and put them in the microwave, but her trip to the kitchen had the ulterior motive of giving her space to think. She’d missed him like crazy all week, and now that he was here, she didn’t want to lose a second with him. And it felt so nice to just sit with him. She wondered… no. It wouldn’t be appropriate. But maybe if they just slept… close? And making up the sofa would be an extra hassle when it would be much easier to share her bed. Everything in her was telling her to do it while simultaneously screaming that it was a bad idea.

“We can manage without things getting out of hand,” she whispered, willing herself to believe it.

“That smells great,” he said, turning the corner into the kitchen and startling her slightly. He came to her like a magnet, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning in to kiss her again. This time, it was deeper, and she could feel herself getting caught up in him. The voice telling her not to let things go too far was louder than before, but she ignored it all the same. The alarm on the microwave sounded, and she let a frustrated groan escape before she caught herself. He gave a cheeky grin in response.

“It’s okay, you know. We can do more of that after I eat,” he said reaching past her for the door of the microwave. He all but inhaled the food, and she wondered if he’d been too nervous to eat anything decent all week. The thought made her chest tighten.

“That was really good. You are such a good cook,” he said, moving to the sink.

“I can wash that later,” she said, eager to be close to him and totally indifferent to an extra dish in the sink.

“Are you sure? I can wash these?”

“I’m positive. Here,” she said taking them from him and placing them haphazardly in the sink. She turned to face him and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. He smiled and placed his hands on her hips.

“I really have missed you,” he said leaning his forehead against hers. Her hands slid from the back of his neck to his chest, and the tug in the pit of her stomach made her decision for her.

“I was thinking,” she looked away from him because she knew deep down this was probably a mistake, “I was thinking that there’s really no need to go to the trouble of making up the couch when you could just… sleep with me?” The sentence became a question as doubt crept in. “I mean, actually sleep,” she went on quickly, realizing the accidental implication. “Just sleep. In my bed. Next to me.” She bit her lip, forcing herself to stop babbling as she felt her cheeks turn pink.

He furrowed his eyebrows and pulled back from her slightly. “Do you… Are you sure, sweetheart? I don’t want you to feel…” She knew if she let him continue, she would lose her nerve, so she cut him off.

“I’m sure… Unless you…”

“No! I would love that… that is, if you feel comfortable?”

“I do,” she said leaning into him and placing a kiss on his cheek. “I don’t like the idea of separating from you right now.”

“I don’t ever like separating from you,” he said softly, kissing her temple and holding her quietly.

“We should get ready for bed,” she said after a moment. It didn’t, she realized with an excited flutter, mean he had to stop holding her.

Philip nodded. “You go, and I’ll clean up in here and then join you.”

He had nothing with him, she realized. There was no getting ready for bed for him; he hadn’t brought so much as a toothbrush.

“I’ve got a spare toothbrush in the closet,” she offered. “I can get that out for you, and I’ll leave my toothpaste out. What can you sleep in?” She remembered the night he’d slept on her floor in Oxford in his clothes—surely that wasn’t a comfortable way to climb into bed.

“Umm…” He paused. “A lot of times I just…sleep in a t-shirt and shorts. Would that…does that bother you?”

“But you’re wearing jeans,” she said, puzzled.

He started at her meaningfully, and she felt herself reddening again. “Oh! That kind of shorts! Yes, yes, that’s fine. They’re just like, well, shorts, aren’t they?” Would this all be as embarrassing once they actually got into bed?

“I guess,” he said, slight doubt in his voice. “As long as you’re sure you don’t mind.”

She shook her head. It didn’t feel quite the same as underwear to her, and they’d be under the covers anyway. “I really don’t mind.”

She left him for the bathroom, brushing her own teeth and washing her face and generally getting ready for bed before changing into a nightgown…a nightgown that suddenly felt far more revealing than it had ever seemed before. She was covered, but the fabric felt uncomfortably thin, and…her breasts were so…there, now that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She contemplated sleeping in a bra before deciding that she’d be likely to wake up with it twisted around with the cups ending up on her side. She would just pray that Philip was still in the kitchen when she came out of the bathroom and then hurry to bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Maybe this hadn’t been a very good idea after all.

She got her wish when she stepped out of the bathroom—Philip was nowhere to be found, and she practically sprinted to her bedroom, where she turned off the light and settled in as planned. A moment later, she heard him in the hallway, and she stiffened, suddenly nervous. There was no reason to be, she reminded herself. He was just going to lie down next to her, they could cuddle for a bit, and then she would fall asleep in his arms. It would all be rather nice, actually.

Theresa listened as Philip ran water, brushing his teeth, and eventually flushed the toilet. Water running again, a pause as he presumably undressed, and then the bathroom door was opening and he was padding down the hallway.

He seemed to think she was asleep as he crept into her room. Part of her reminded herself that this was fine, because all they were meant to be doing was sleeping, and she should close her eyes and let him go on thinking that. But another part of her—a larger part, a less wise part—told her that it would defeat the purpose of this if she couldn’t snuggle up to him.

“I’m awake still,” she said softly.

“Oh good,” Philip said, drawing the covers back, climbing in on the empty side, and stretching out on his back. “I was afraid I’d wake you getting into bed. You get up so early now—I know you’ve had a long day.”

“Mm-hmm.” She sighed as he began to slowly rub her back. “But this is a lovely way to end it.”

She shifted closer so that she could rest her head on his chest, her arm across his stomach and his arm wrapped around her. She’d made the right decision, she knew now. This was innocent cuddling, and after a week of stress, it was wonderfully comforting to lie in Philip’s arms. She could hear his heartbeat and feel the slight movement of his chest as he breathed, feel the strength in his body beneath her, feel her muscles relaxing as his hand made firm circles on her back. There was nothing wrong in any of this, and she was almost annoyed with her earlier hesitation.

“Your hair smells good,” he murmured, and she felt him kiss the top of her head.

“You smell good, too,” she said, taking a deep breath. There was his cedar aftershave, the lingering hint of the lemon candies he was so fond of chewing between classes, the old paper of the pile of history books he was often buried under: a scent that was uniquely Philip, and it soothed her to breathe it again.

Theresa smoothed her hand over his chest, delighting in the feel of him, in the physical reminder that he was finally _here_. She’d missed him terribly in the last week, but the truth was she’d missed him every day since she’d left Oxford. And now here he was, at last. With her. Next to her. Holding her. Lying in her bed. She drew in her breath at the sweet intimacy of it.

Had his chest always been so firm, so strong? Or had she failed to notice, numbed into the familiarity of seeing him daily at university? The latter, she supposed, but how perfect his chest was. She could not seem to stop exploring it with her fingers, tracing slow patterns over his t-shirt.

“Theresa?”

“Sorry…am I tickling you?”

Philip chuckled. “No, I just wondered what you were doing.”

She was silent for a moment. What was she doing? “Realizing how perfect you are, I guess.”

He chuckled again, but she sensed he liked hearing this. “Well, I can’t complain about that.”

She lifted her head, propping herself up slightly so that she could kiss him, first on his chin and then on his lips. His hands were in her hair, and when they finished, he held her still for a moment, gazing up at her.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes dark and intense.

She leaned down again to kiss his chin once more, following that with a trail of kisses down his neck and then onto his chest. She had a vague idea that his breathing was changing slightly, but she paid it no attention. Her hand was passing over his ribcage, and she had a sudden urge to remove the thin t-shirt that separated her hands from his skin.

It made perfect sense that she should reach down, take hold of the hem, and slowly work it upwards, her hands raking over the muscles in his stomach and chest as she did so.

“ _Theresa_ ,” she heard him say, his voice straining against his throat, but he did not appear to be asking her to stop: rather, he was raising his arms to help her get his shirt off the rest of the way.

It was not shocking to see Philip’s chest; she’d occasionally seen him shirtless before. But it was different, somehow, now that they were in bed, now that her hands were on him, and she kissed him hungrily.

_Closer_. She wanted to be even closer, and she moved sideways, climbing further onto him. His body tensed—he seemed to be almost straining, somehow—but he had one hand in her hair again, and with his other he drew her closer.

Then two things seemed to happen at once: she felt her breasts—her unrestrained breasts—brush against his bare chest, with only the thin fabric of her nightgown between them, and she felt something… _hard_ …jut into her hip.

Before her brain could process what had happened, Philip jerked away as though electrocuted. “ _Theresa_!” he exclaimed, practically throwing her off of him as he leapt from the bed. Without so much as a second glance, he had run from the room and down the hall and slammed the bathroom door.

Oh God. She knew, suddenly, what had happened. What she’d caused. What she’d done.

Mortified, she got out of bed, rummaged through her dresser for her bathrobe, and turned on the lamps. Continued darkness seemed suggestive somehow now, and she did not like it. Pulling her robe tightly around her, Theresa sat down at the foot of the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. The light made her even more ashamed of how she’d behaved. For heaven’s sake, she had yanked his clothes off and started to _climb on top of him_.

And all after she’d been the one to lecture him about standards and honouring God and waiting for marriage. Hot tears gathered in her eyes.

Long, awkward seconds ticked by as she sat curled up on her bed, waiting for…waiting for what? Philip to come back? What would she say then? There was no explanation or excuse for _any_ of that.

Was Philip even coming back? Was he going to sleep in the bathtub? What was he…doing, anyway? She shut her eyes firmly, refusing to consider how he was dealing with his…problem.

At last, she heard the bathroom door open, followed by tentative footsteps, and she shifted so that her back was to her door. The last thing either of them needed was for her to have another glimpse of a barely-dressed Philip.

“Theresa?”

“Your shirt is behind me,” she said, refusing to face him until she knew his chest was covered. She heard him approach the bed, then the rustling of fabric as he took his t-shirt from the sheets and slipped it back on. He was dressed now, but she still couldn’t bear to look at him.

“Theresa, I’m really sorry about that,” he said softly, his voice filled with regret. “Really, really sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault!” She’d been the one removing his clothes and practically lying on top of him.

“It’s my fault I didn’t control my…reaction better. Or leave before…before I—”

“It’s not your fault,” she said again, hurriedly this time. She didn’t really want him to finish that sentence.

“Theresa…”

The sorrow in his voice finally forced her to turn. “I’m so sorry, Philip! That was all so wrong of me, and I don’t know why I did it!” As though she was not already humiliated enough, her tears began to flow again.

“Oh, love.” He came quickly to embrace her, and she buried her face in his chest. His chest felt safe this time, and she let herself relax against him. “Don’t cry! Please, don’t cry.” He kissed the top of her head. “You did all that because you love me.”

“That doesn’t make it any less wrong, though,” she said, wiping her eyes and sitting up.

“No, but nothing terribly wrong happened. We…stopped before anything happened.”

“You leapt from the bed,” she said drily, and he grinned.

“Later than I should have, but yes.” He paused. “The irony is that I’ve been worried this week that you’d gone off me in London, but I see you’re still very much on me.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. “I am. I’m very much still on you. It’s just…” She sighed. “I’m really ashamed of what I just did.”

“Well, if anyone should be embarrassed, it’s me,” he said, raising his eyebrows, and she giggled again. “But I don’t think either of us really has any reason to be ashamed. Everything that happened…that was all natural. That’s what’s supposed to happen when people love each other.”

She nodded. “I guess I just…never realized what it would feel like. To love someone so much, to want them so badly. I’ve never…I’ve never really loved anyone before.” She certainly thought she had—she’d had other boyfriends and thought that must be what love was like. But it had been clear in the time since she’d known Philip how very wrong she’d been. Nothing had ever felt like this.

She wondered momentarily if she wasn’t Philip’s first love, but he was shaking his head. “No, I’ve never felt anything like this either. You’re just…” He was starting to turn pink, and she felt herself melting at the cuteness. “You’re just really special, and I love you a lot.”

They embraced again, happily this time, Theresa resting her head on his shoulder. “I do think this probably means we shouldn’t sleep together,” Philip said after a moment.

She sighed. “We probably shouldn’t. It wasn’t a very good idea, but I just wanted to be close to you.”

He kissed her forehead. “Someday we’ll be able to. When we’re married, I’ll be close to you every night.”

“What?”

“I’ll be close to you every night…I can hold you every night if you like.”

She sat up so she could face him. “No, the first bit…did you say ‘when we’re married’?” They’d talked vaguely about the future, but there had never been anything so specific as _when we’re married_.

“Sorry,” Philip said quickly, and she could almost see him deflating. “I just assumed—but I shouldn’t have.”

“No, no! I didn’t mean—it’s just, we’ve never talked about that before.”

“I know,” he said, staring down at his hands. “I just think about it a lot. About being married to you.”

“Oh, Philip…” The truth was she thought about marriage a lot, too.

“I’m not ready to be engaged now—I can’t marry you; I don’t even have a job.” He finally chanced a glance up at her. “But would you marry me, someday? When we’re ready?”

“I would marry you tomorrow.”

She kissed him, long and slow, their arms wrapping around each other, until at last Philip pulled back.

“I think I should go,” he said hoarsely. “Or we’ll be right back where we started.”

She laughed and kissed him good night, watching him depart for the couch with a new lightness in her heart.


	15. Chapter 15

Theresa knocked softly on Philip’s door. She readjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder and crossed her arms restlessly. She’d been anxious to get here all day, distracted at work thinking about how much she missed him and how excited she was to celebrate their anniversary. She heard him walking briskly to the door, and she felt her chest flutter with anticipation.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he breathed out as he opened the door. The very next moment, his arms were wrapped tightly around her waist and hers were around his shoulders, one drifting up into his hair. She turned her head in slightly to kiss his neck and nuzzled into him, not wanting to leave his embrace. She wanted to say something, to tell him how happy she was now that she was with him, but words failed, and she just hugged him a little tighter.

They both loosened their grips slightly and leaned back so they could look at each other.

“Happy anniversary, Duck,” she said, leaning in to kiss him.

“Happy anniversary,” he said, resting his forehead against hers.

“What’s the plan, or are we just going to do this all evening?” she asked with a coy smile.

“As lovely as that sounds,” he said, leaning in for another kiss and leaning to help her out of her coat, “I have other plans. I just need a few more minutes for dinner.”

“Can I help with anything?” she asked, following him into the apartment.

“Absolutely not,” he said with a wide smile. He gave her another kiss before walking backwards towards the kitchen. “I’ll be right back, but make yourself comfortable in the mean time.”

She watched him walk into his kitchen, noting how handsome he looked. He was wearing a collared shirt under a dark grey jumper, and she just wanted to snuggle up to him again.

“Do you want wine with dinner?” he asked, leaning around the wall of the kitchen.

“Sure!”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin and disappeared again.

When he reappeared, he was carrying two dishes with serving spoons that he placed on the table.

“You cooked?” she asked, rushing to help him.

“I… tried to cook. Hopefully it’s edible,” he said, straightening the dishes on the table and walking around to pull a chair out for her. As she sat, he leaned around to kiss her. “I’ll be back with wine in a second.”

“You’re sure you don’t need a hand?” she whispered, staring up at him.

“I’m sure. I can’t let you see the kitchen right now or you’ll leave me.”

She giggled, and he kissed her again before dashing off to the kitchen and back with wine and glasses.

“This looks great, sweetheart,” she said, looking over the table.

“It’s mushroom risotto with roasted vegetables. It’s Mum’s recipe, so I guess we’ll see how it turns out,” he said, struggling with the cork screw.

“I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.”

And it was… in part, at least. He hadn’t let the risotto cook long enough, and it was a bit chewier than it was supposed to be, but she loved that he tried. He’d put in a lot of effort, and she found it incredibly adorable.

“I hope your jaw isn’t sore from all of the chewing. Sorry about that,” he said with an exaggerated frown.

“My jaw is fine, and so was the food. I really enjoyed it…and the company.”

He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. She looked down at their hands and back up at him and suddenly felt shy under his gaze.

“What is it?” she asked shyly, shifting her eyes.

“Nothing. You just look really beautiful,” he said, running his thumb lightly over the back of her hand.

“Philip,” she mumbled, trying her best to sound annoyed.

“Sorry!” he said, throwing his hands up in innocence, “I’m just making an objective observation.”

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a coy smile. “Do you want to go sit on the couch?”

“Actually,” he said, jumping up and grabbing their plates, “there’s a change of location involved here, and I have something to take care of before.”

“I’m intrigued.”

“Good,” he said, leaning down to kiss her while balancing a handful of dishes, “I’ll be right back.”

“I guess I’ll wait here,” she said, crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair. Seconds after he disappeared around the wall to the kitchen, she heard the loud clattering of dishes in the sink. She grimaced slightly.

“Philip, is everything…”

“It’s fine! I promise,” he said, obviously flustered. A few more minutes and a lot more alarming sounds later, he returned with a basket.

“All right. Ready to go!” he said with a relieved huff.

He pulled on his coat before helping Theresa with hers. She turned to face him, and his hands went under her coat to rest on her waist.

“This is a great dress,” he said, pulling her closer to him. She reached for the lapels of his coat and leaned into him slightly.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “You look very snuggly in this jumper.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that adjective,” he said, raising an eyebrow and leaning away from her.

“No! I just meant that… I like it. You look handsome… and snuggly. Like I want to snuggle with you,” she said quickly before giving him a peck on the lips.

“I guess I can’t complain about that,” he said, following her out the door with his basket in tow.

They walked side by side, and he took her hand in his. She loved the warmth of it, and the fact that it made her own hand feel small by comparison. She thought back to the first time he’d held her hand, how nerves shot through her from head to toe. Now it was different. Now it was familiar, and the nerves were replaced by an ease and comfort that washed over her with the small physical reminder that he was right there.

“Where are we going?” she asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“It’s a surprise, but I’m sure you’ll recognize it soon,” he said with a coy smile.

And she did. The path they walked stirred a memory of what they now referred to as their first “real date.” They’d watched fireworks, she’d nearly choked to death, and at the end of the night, he’d kissed her forehead instead pushing for more than she was comfortable with.

“I do remember this.”

“Fondly, I hope?”

“Very fondly.”

“Good,” he said, smiling brightly at her, “We’re almost there.” He lifted her hand to his lips to kiss it softly.

When they finally made it up, Theresa looked up to see a quilt on the ground with pillows against the parapet that surrounded the rooftop. There were more blankets and some unlit candles placed around the quilt, and Theresa couldn’t help but smile at the thought of how much effort he’d made. She looked up at him, and he was waiting patiently for her response, obviously hoping she was pleased.

“This is lovely, Philip,” she said, squeezing his hand tightly. He smiled.

“I should light these candles.” He scrambled around, trying to get the candles lit as quickly as possible. He wasn’t quite as smooth as she knew he wanted to be, struggling slightly with the matches and letting one burn too long so the flame got too close to his fingers. It was a heart-warming scene, one that made him even more adorable to her.

“There we go,” he said, brushing his hands together and admiring his work. “I have hot chocolate and dessert.”

“Dessert?” she said skeptically, wondering what sort of concoction he’d whipped up for her.

“Don’t worry. I got this from the bakery. I couldn’t subject you to more of my cooking.”

She offered a diplomatic smile and sat next to him on the quilt. They ate and talked. She missed talking to him, even just being around him, while she was in the city, and she just wanted to soak it all in.

“I have my note for you,” he said shyly, reaching into his jacket pocket.

They’d agreed to forgo gifts this year and write each other notes instead. She knew he was still slightly touchy about the money situation, and she was more than happy to exchange something more meaningful.

“I have mine too!” she said, reaching into her coat pocket for the letter she’d written and rewritten. She could feel the evidence of it where the paper was folded, the creases weakened by folding and unfolding it. She could recite the whole thing by heart now.

_My Dearest Philip…_ She’d struggled with the salutation for days before settling on this one.

_My Dearest Philip,_

_When we decided to exchange letters, I thought it would be easy to write how I feel about you. Everything else about being with you has been easy. Falling in love with you was easy, even though I wasn’t sure I could allow myself to be that vulnerable. You’ve made everything so easy, and now the hardest part is knowing where to start in telling you how much this year has meant to me._

She’d genuinely wrestled with what to say to him. Nothing felt sufficient.

_I’ve spent so much of my life not feeling comfortable in my own skin, not knowing how I fit in, but all of that changed when I met you. Now I know exactly where I belong. With you._

She went on to talk about how much confidence she’d gained, how much confidence he’d given her. She told him how hard it was to be away from him while she was in London, but how happy it made her to think of what their lives would be like when they were back together again. She thanked him for how supportive he’d been about her mom, about her disorder, about everything.

_I used to worry that I would never find someone who could love me the way you have, but you always have been better than anything I could ever hope for. I can’t wait for more years like this one, more years to love you and learn with you and grow closer to you._

The thought of a life with Philip made her impatient. She wanted to start it, to be married to him, to share everything with him, but the distance between them had taught her to cherish the moments they did have and rest in the knowledge that their season would come.

She felt his hand on her leg and gave him the note that she’d poured her heart into. He handed her his note, and they both unfolded them slowly. She’d wondered if this might be awkward, to read such personal things while they were together, but now that the moment had arrived, she didn’t mind. They exchanged smiles before looking down at the paper in their hands. The first thing she noticed was his unique handwriting, the writing she’d seen on sweet notes he left for her when she was feeling stressed about classes or worried about her mum. It was elegant, and slightly slanted from the way he angled his paper to write with his left hand. He took her free hand in his as they both started to read.

_Dear Theresa,_

_I remember the night last year that we first met. I remember your shy smile, your soft voice, your ready warmth…but most of all, I remember my first thought: “What a lovely girl.”_

_In the past twelve months, I’ve learned there could be no truer description. You’re beautiful on the outside, of course, so much so that sometimes, when my eyes fall on your photo on my nightstand before bed, my breath catches and I wonder how you could possibly be mine._

_But you’re not “just” beautiful: it’s your manner, your character, your sweetness that make you lovely. This was evident from the beginning: I fell in love with your quiet shyness. I loved your gentle silences, I loved the soft, thoughtful way you spoke, I loved the shy way you smiled at me, as though you weren’t sure it was all right. Every bit of that was lovely, and your quiet way still makes you lovely: I love how easy and comfortable we are together. I love the way you smile at me now, your shyness replaced with trust and love. Each time I’m with you I discover more evidence of your brilliance._

_Your gentleness also masks your strength. I’ve been amazed to discover such hidden reserves of strength in you this year, a quiet, persevering, faithful strength in the face of many kinds of pain. It only makes you more beautiful._

_I will never cease to be thankful that you’re mine, and I pray that you always will be. My lovely girl._

_Love,_

_Philip_

He was running his thumb over the back of her hand, and she looked up to see that tears had collected in his eyes. He’d always been a faster reader than her, so she knew he was probably reading her letter a second time. She repeated the words in her head over and over, “My lovely girl”. She knew he chose them with care. She squeezed his hand slightly, and he looked up at her. There were a few moments of silence between then before he pulled her into a tight hug. He turned to kiss her neck and pulled back slightly to kiss her lips. One of his hands moved to her face while the other pulled her closer, and he kissed her more deeply.

“I love you,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” she said, feeling like she should say more, but not knowing what.

He pulled her into another hug. This time they stayed that way for a while, her hands drifting up to play in his hair.

The sun was well below the horizon now, and she could feel the temperature dropping. He pulled back slightly and took both of her hands, placing a kiss on each of her palms.

“I brought more blankets so we could stay out for a while and look at the stars,” he whispered softly, “if you’re not too cold?”

“I’d love that,” she said with a smile.

He crawled over to grab a thick blanket and leaned back against the pillows that were perched against the wall. She scooted close to his side, and he pulled the cover up over them both. His arm wrapped tightly around her, and she rested her head on his chest, hearing the faint sound of his heart beating.

“Are you warm enough?” he whispered into her hair, placing a kiss there and hugging her tighter.

“Mmhmm,” she murmured, nodding slightly.

“And you’re comfortable?”

He was fussing, and she found it very endearing.

“I’m very comfortable,” she said, craning her neck slightly so she could kiss him. She draped her arm around his waist and nuzzled into his neck. “This is perfect.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Americans, 39 degrees is just over 102. :)

All Philip could hear was the sound of his heart beating in his ears as he ran the path from the tube station to Theresa’s flat. “My cramps… It’s a lot worse this month. I don’t know why,” she’d said with an audible wince. He’d run to the station for the first train he could get. She hadn’t asked him to come, in fact, he was surprised she’d called him at all. She usually didn’t want to ask for help, so he knew it was serious. He weaved around some people on the sidewalk and looked down at his watch. It had been almost two hours since he scrambled out of his apartment, and the thought of her dealing with this alone made him pick up his pace.

He made it to her building and dashed up the stairs to her flat. He haphazardly grabbed for the door knob and turned it to find it was unlocked.

“Theresa!” he shouted breathlessly, closing the door quickly behind him. He assumed she’d be in her bedroom, but after a few steps in that direction he spotted her. She was lying curled up on the floor in the hall, hugging her knees to her chest. She was crying, not the quiet tears that sometimes came with cramps, but huge sobs. A chill ran through him.

“Philip,” she said, trying and failing to push herself up.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to move,” he said kneeling down to get closer to her level. “What happened?” He reached out to push her hair back, revealing a very pale face with streaks of tears down her cheeks. He hadn’t recovered from running all the way to her apartment, but his heart rate quickened again with panic. He put his hands on the floor to support himself, feeling slightly faint. 

“I was trying… I went to the bathroom, and it got…worse.” Everything about her communicated that she was terribly uncomfortable. “The pain is really bad this time. I can’t stand up.” She hugged her knees closer to her, whimpering slightly. “I’m… really… sorry,” she choked out, each word punctuated by a sob.

“Don’t apologize for anything, dove. What can I do? How can I help?” He was desperate to do something. By this point, he’d seen her when she had bad cramps. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was never like this. “Why don’t I carry you back to bed?”

“No!” she shouted, reaching up to still him with one hand.

“Love, you can’t stand. Let me help you.”

“But I…” She stopped short, and he wasn’t sure if it was pain or something she didn’t want to tell him.

“What is it, sweetheart? I can help.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

She considered for a moment before relenting. “It’s worse than usual, and,” she paused and flinched, “there’s blood on my sheets. I was trying change them before you got here but I couldn’t.” She was clearly embarrassed, refusing to look up at him. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“Do you have some spare sheets?” he whispered, stroking her hair softly.

“They’re in my closet on the top shelf,” she said, finally looking up at him with teary eyes.

“I’ll take care of it. Do you want to move to the couch while I do?” He didn’t want to move her because she was obviously in a considerable amount of pain, but he knew she might be more comfortable.

“I can stay here. It hurts to move.”

His heart broke again for her. He wished he could take this away and make life easier for her. He left her reluctantly and ran to her bedroom. He went for the extra sheets first. “Top shelf in the closet,” he whispered to himself. He looked up to see four sets of identical sheets neatly on her top shelf. He felt his chest tighten at the thought that she was already prepared for this exact scenario. How many times had she had to do this herself?

He walked back into the bedroom and heard her sniffling in the hallway. He wanted to go to her, but he had to finish this first. He quickly pulled all of the sheets off the bed, rolling up the stained sheet so he could put it away to be washed and replacing it with a clean one. He could still hear Theresa crying, and he felt frantic trying to get back to her.

“I’m almost finished, sweetheart,” he said through the lump in his own throat.

“It’s okay,” she said weakly.

He practically sprinted back to her spot in the hallway. He studied her for a moment, now keenly aware of how difficult it was going to be to move her.

“I’m so sorry, Philip. You shouldn’t have had to…” he couldn’t bear to hear her apologize, so he cut her off.

“Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

“I might be able to walk there.” She started to push herself up again but immediately recoiled.

“I can carry you. Just put your arms around my neck.” He leaned down so she could wrap her arms around him. “I know this might be uncomfortable.”

She slowly and reluctantly unfolded herself so he could get his arms under her. She whimpered as she extended her legs, her tears flowing freely. She was beyond trying to put on a brave face like she normally did.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, looking into her now swollen eyes.

“It’s okay,” she sobbed, even though everything was very much not okay.

She let out a pained yelp when he lifted her off the floor, and his stomach tied itself in knots. “I’m so sorry, love,” he said walking as carefully as possible to her room. She nuzzled into his neck and clutched at his shirt groaning slightly with nearly every step.

Putting her back down was just as terrible as picking her up. He knew it had to be done, but he was hurting her, and he hated it. He set her on the bed as carefully as possible, but it wasn’t careful enough. Her breathing was ragged now from crying, and she bit her lip to contain the cries of pain that were fighting to come out. He slid his arms out from under her, and she immediately curled up again. There was a brief moment of relief on her face, but it was immediately replaced by the pained expression she’d worn all night.

He pulled the quilt up over her and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked frighteningly pale now, and it seemed like every movement cause her enormous amounts of pain.

“What can I do?” he whispered, trying his best to stay calm even though he was panicking.

“I don’t know. It’s… never been like this.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad you called.” He leaned down to kiss her temple. “What about the heating pad? Do you think it would help?”

“I tried it earlier, but… it’s not doing much this time,” she said dejectedly. “Why don’t you tell me about your studies? Or s-something to take my mind off things.” She was struggling to speak, folding further in on herself.

“I can do that.” He reached out to stroke her hair softly. “Do you want the Greeks or the Romans?”

He was delighted to see a hint of a smile. “Greeks,” she said confidently, leaning into his hand.

He launched into a spiel about what he was learning in his Greek history class. He got a chuckle out of her when he told her the story of Archimedes running naked through the streets when he discovered buoyancy while he was in the bath. But it was short lived. She was clearly still in agony even though she was trying her best to listen. He saw her tighten her grip on the sheets every so often or shift around in search of a more comfortable position. She was doing her best, but her tears started again.

“Sweetheart, is something wrong? Is it worse?”

“I don’t know. I feel… I f-feel like I’m going to be s-sick.”

It took him a moment to process, but he jumped up in a panic to search for her rubbish bin.

“Here,” he said returning to her side, “we can use this so you don’t have to move.”

“B-but,” she started to protest. The very next moment, she leaned forward and threw up into the bin. He scooted closer so he could hold her hair back. She barely had time to recuperate before the second wave hit. This time it seemed like there was nothing really there. She probably hadn’t eaten much, and now she was just dry heaving. She groaned in pain between them, the pressure on her stomach clearly making things worse for her. When it finally passed, she all but collapsed on the bed, her hands shaking.

“I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, love. It’s all right. Don’t worry.” He ran for a damp flannel, and by the time he was back, she was curled up again. “Here,” he said, handing it to her so she could wipe her face, “can I get you anything else?”

“I’m pretty thirsty,” she said, pulling the covers up higher.

“I can get you some water. Anything else?” he asked, placing his hand on her cheek.

“Some ginger tea might be nice too,” she said with a weak smile.

“I’ll be right back with both.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead, but this time she felt warm. Maybe it was just because she’d thrown up, but he was really starting to worry. This was so much more intense than the other times he’d been with her through bad cramps.

He left her bedroom door cracked and walked out to the kitchen to start a kettle. He felt extremely unsure of himself. The nausea came on so quickly, the pain wasn’t letting up at all, and he was totally out of his depth. He needed help.

Once he got the kettle started, he picked up the phone and dialed his mum. He made a quick glance at the wall clock and noted the lateness of the hour. He hadn’t realized, but he hoped it wouldn’t startle his parents.

“Hello?” she said in her usual calming voice.

“Hi, Mum. I’m sorry it’s so late.”

“It’s fine, love. Is everything all right?” She sounded concerned, but cheery as ever.

“I’m okay, but I’m with Theresa, and she’s… she’s having really awful cramps. It’s not how they normally are.”

“Oh dear. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” She knew how much he hated to see Theresa like this. “What’s happening?”

“The pain is worse and she just threw up. I think she might have a fever, too.”

“Poor dear. She’s got enough on as it is.” His mum shared the same anger at Theresa’s circumstances that he had. When he first told her about the condition, she was frustrated at the injustice of it. Someone so kind and wonderful who was already suffering a sick parent didn’t deserve more heartache. “Can I do anything to help? Do you need me to come to London?”

“I think I’ve got it under control for now, but I’m not sure what to do. The usual things aren’t helping. Heat isn’t touching it,” he rambled, realizing he sounded desperate.

“Oh love, I’m sorry.” The warmth in her voice soothed him. It always had, but especially now. “Have you thought about getting her to A & E?”

“They usually can’t help much, but I don’t know now.”

“I don’t know what they can do for her, but if it gets any worse, I might consider it,” she said, clearly concerned.

“You’re probably right, but she won’t like it,” he said, knowing a suggestion of A&E would start a fight.

“I know she won’t, but it might be necessary, especially if she has a fever.”

“I’ll check for that now. I should probably get back.”

“Okay. Sweetheart, if you need anything, I’ll be listening for the phone.”

“Thanks, Mum. I love you.”

“Of course! I love you too.” 

He put the phone back on the receiver and went to fetch the kettle that was starting to steam. He got some cold water from the tap while the tea steeped and grabbed a thermometer from the cupboard.

When he made it back into Theresa’s room, she had the covers pulled up around her neck. The closer he got, the more he worried. She was still pale, and now she was sweating slightly.

“Here’s the tea and water, and I brought a thermometer.”

“A thermometer?” she said, looking up at him.

“You feel warm, and I want to check.”

“Okay,” she said, obviously not pleased with the idea. It was unlike her to give up without any protest.

He put the thermometer under her tongue and held it there while he used his other hand to rub her back. He could feel her muscles tensing harshly, though he could tell just from her face that she was miserable. He pulled the thermometer out when the time was up, and the red liquid was right around the thirty-nine degree marker. His heart sunk.

“Theresa, you have a fever. Thirty-nine.”

She looked up at him, confused and obviously concerned. “That’s never happened before.”

“Sweetheart, I think we should consider going to A&E,” he said, bracing himself for an argument.

“But there’s nothing they can do, Philip. They can’t help me.”

“I know that’s usually true, but this time is different.” He put his hand on her forehead again. “You’re burning up, love. We need to get you to a doctor.”

“This is so embarrassing, Philip,” she said, tears flowing out onto her cheeks again, but not from the pain this time.

“I know, sweetheart.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead and wipe the tears away from her face. “I just want to make sure everything’s okay. I just want you to be okay.”

She thought for a moment and nodded. He was shocked that she didn’t put up more of a fight. He was sure he’d have to carry her out kicking and screaming, but this only reassured him that she was in a tremendous amount of pain.

“Do you think you’ll be able to stand so we can get you down to a cab?”

“I can try. I think I should go to the bathroom first,” she said sheepishly.

“Right. I can carry you there,” he said, standing to help her out of bed.

“If I’m going to have to walk, I may as well walk to the bathroom.”

“Please, love, let me help you,” he said pleadingly. She nodded and reached up for him. He lifted her carefully and looked over to make sure she was all right. She whimpered and buried her face in his shoulder. A lump formed in his throat at the sight of her, but he swallowed it and walked through the bedroom to the bathroom.

He pushed the door open with his foot and set her down on the edge of the bath tub. She grasped his arm tightly as he did, wincing sharply. “Will you be okay in here by yourself? I can go call a cab.” he asked, kneeling in front of her and placing his hands on her shoulders.

She nodded and reached up to wipe a tear away before it could fall. “I can reach everything from here.” He smiled at her and stood to walk out when he felt her grab his hand. “Thank you for all of this Philip. You’re so kind to me.”

He turned back and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “I would do anything for you, love,” he whispered before turning back to leave.

He paced outside the door for several minutes, his stomach churning with worry. He could hear her struggling, and all he wanted to do was burst through the door and help her.

“Philip,” she called through the closed door. He ran for the door and opened it, finding her seated on the edge of the tub again. “I think I’m ready.”

“Good. I can get you to the stairs, and we’ll figure out how to go from there,” he said, leaning down to lift her up. She already looked positively exhausted, and he worried what a trip down the stairs would be like. He would happily carry her, but going down the stairs terrified him. What if he tripped and dropped her? It could me this so much worse. He decided he’d cross that bridge if it was necessary.

When they made it to the landing, he hesitated for a moment before gently lowering her down so her feet were on the floor. Just supporting her own weight seemed overwhelming, her knees buckling slightly at her first attempt to stand.

“Lean on me,” he said, sliding his left arm around her waist and hunching slightly so she could get an arm around his shoulder. He reached over with his right hand so she could take it with her left, and he looked at her for confirmation before taking the first step. They went slowly, but it didn’t seem to matter. She was in pain, and quiet sobs escaped as they descended. “We’re almost to the next landing,” he said, half to reassure her and half to reassure himself. He held her closer to him for the last few steps, and when they made it, she collapsed into him. He wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face in his shirt.

“We’re almost there, love, just a bit more.”

“I don’t think I can do it, Philip,” she admitted through a sob. His heart broke for the millionth time that night, and his hand made slow passes up and down her back.

“I can get you the rest of the way,” he said, leaning down to lift her up. “Hold on tight.” He didn’t want to give her a chance to protest, so he started to descend the stairs sideways so he could see each step below his feet. He was comfortable carrying her. He’d done it before, but going down the stairs made him nervous, especially while she was in this state.

Much to his relief, he made it to the bottom step and onto the flat ground. The relief was short lived, and he felt her clutching the collar of his shirt, letting out an awful cry of pain.

“We’re almost there, love. The cab should be outside.”

And it was. He got her settled before giving directions to the driver and jogging around to join her in the back seat. She’d already pulled her knees up to her chest, and as soon as he slid in beside her, she leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her so she could rest against him. He could feel her muscles tensing again. He kissed her hair and prayed silently for this to go away. All he wanted was for her to not be in pain anymore.

When they made it to the hospital everything was a blur of questions and answers. Doctors and nurses swarmed around her while he stood helplessly outside her room. He noticed the concerned look on their faces, each one talking to the other in hushed tones. After what felt like an eternity, one of the doctors approached him, taking him aside.

“After taking everything into account, I think we’re going to have to operate. She had a cyst that ruptured, which is fairly normal, but this one was much larger than we typically see. It’s causing quite a lot of internal bleeding.” He understood each word individually, but the full weight was too much for him to process in the moment. “Her condition is serious, but she’s young and strong. No reason to think she won’t pull through just fine.” His heart was beating in his ears again. The question of whether or not she would pull through hadn’t even entered his mind until now. “It may be wise to call her parents if that’s possible?”

“I can call them,” he said, still trying his best to process things. “Can… C-can I talk to her first?”

The doctor nodded sympathetically. “It’ll have to be quick. We want to get her in as soon as possible.”

Philip walked briskly back into Theresa’s room. He could see the panic on her face as one of the nurses started an IV on her arm. He crouched down beside her so he was on the same level and reached out to put his hand on her cheek.

“I’m really scared, Philip,” she said, reaching up to grab his hand.

“I know, love, but the doctor says you’re going to be all right.” He kissed her hand and willed it to be true.

“Can you call M-mum and Dad for me?”

“Of course, my darling, anything you want.” Their eyes locked for a few more silent moments.

“I love you, Philip.

“And I love you,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her. “I’ll be right here when you get out.”

One more kiss, and the nurses wheeled the love of his life out of view. His head was spinning, and he placed one hand on the wall to steady himself. Now that he was alone, he allowed the tears that he’d been holding back all night to flow. The what if’s started buzzing in his mind, and he scrubbed his hands over his face in an attempt to silence them. He wouldn’t even think it. Theresa would be fine. She had to be.

He did his best to pull himself together. He wiped at his tears and patted around his pockets for some change to put in the pay phone.

“You can use the desk phone,” a nurse said softly, stepping out of the doorway so he could follow her. “She’s going to be just fine. Don’t worry,” she said, as he followed her to the front desk. He nodded in a feeble attempt to acknowledge her polite gesture.

He struggled to remember the number for her parents’ house. He was normally great at recalling telephone numbers, but he was completely beside himself. He didn’t get an answer on the first attempt, not surprising for a phone call in the middle of the night, but on the second attempt, her dad answered groggily.

Philip explained everything he knew to the panicked Hubert. Philip paused every so often so Hubert could relay everything to Zaidee. He heard her gasp when Hubert told her about the surgery. He told Philip that they’d get and the car and be right there. He didn’t want her mum to be under any unnecessary stress, but he was glad they’d be there.

When he hung up with them, he called his own mum. She answered almost immediately, undoubtedly because she’d set up camp beside the phone with a cup of tea and a book. She already loved Theresa like a daughter and was probably impatient for an update. 

“Philip?”

“It’s me,” he said, fighting against the tears that were threatening to surface again.

“What’s happening?”

“I’m at the hospital now. They said there was a cyst causing internal bleeding, and they just took her back for surgery.” His voice broke, and he leaned on the counter to steady himself.

“Oh sweetheart. It’s going to be all right. I’ll wake your father and let him know. I’m coming there,” she said in a tone that let him know there was no changing her mind.

“Thanks, Mum. I… I don’t know what to do.” His voice was shaking now.

“It’s going to be all right, love. Try getting something to eat, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I will,” he said, knowing he wouldn’t be able to eat anything.

“She’s a tough girl. She’s going to be just fine.”

“Yeah. I love you, Mum.”

“I love you, too.”

He hung up and wandered over to one of the waiting areas. He’d never been to a hospital at this time of night, but the emptiness made him feel even lonelier. He fell into one of the chairs and leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees. His leg was bouncing up and down, causing his whole body to shake. He was in the middle of his waking nightmare. Theresa was suffering, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to help her.

He glanced to his left and saw a Bible on the table between some scattered gossip magazines. He reached for it and opened it, closer to the beginning than the end. When he looked down, there was a verse that had already been underlined.

“And the Lord, he it is that doth go before thee; he will be with thee, he will not fail thee, neither forsake thee: fear not, neither be dismayed.”

He closed the book and held it in his hands.

“Please let her be all right.”


	17. Chapter 17

Joy carefully poured water from the steaming kettle into the teapot. The liquid splashed up the walls and slowly turned brown as it hit the leaves. They’d just gotten to Theresa’s flat from the hospital that morning, and after settling in, Joy had decided it was tea time. She looked around the kitchen wondering where Theresa kept her strainer. She pulled out one drawer, then another, and finally laid eyes on it.

“I can help with the tea,” Theresa said weakly as she padded softly into the kitchen, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. She looked small in her oversized sweatshirt and loose pajama pants

“Oh, dear, you should be resting. I can manage this.” Joy could tell that Theresa was deeply uncomfortable with that arrangement. Philip had told her about how fiercely independent Theresa was. In fact, he’d reiterated it to her when he left the hospital for Oxford. He’d wanted desperately to stay and take care of Theresa, but he had school, and Theresa wouldn’t hear of it. Now Joy had the chance to see that trademark independence firsthand. 

“I can’t let you wait on me hand and foot.”

“You can, and you absolutely will.”

Theresa started to protest but stopped short, looking down at the floor and tightening her crossed arms. Joy immediately felt the need to soften her words. “That’s what I’m here for, love,” Joy said, placing a hand on Theresa’s shoulder. Theresa gave a weak smile. “Now, how do you take your tea? White as milk like Philip?”

Theresa chuckled. “Black is great for me.”

Joy ushered Theresa back into the living room so she could finish up. She arranged the two cups and some biscuits on a tray and carried it carefully to join Theresa on the couch.

“Here we are,” she said, taking a seat beside Theresa.

“Thank you for this, Joy. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you helping me,” Theresa said, looking down at the teacup shyly. Joy could see how much Theresa hated this helplessness.

“I’m happy that I can help, love,” she said, reaching over to pat Theresa’s knee.

“And I know,” Theresa paused to clear her throat, “I know Mum is glad someone’s here to help.”

Joy could hear a slight quivering in Theresa’s voice, and it pained her to imagine what must be going on in her mind at the moment. Not only was she worried about her own issues, but this also forced her to confront the fact that her mum wouldn’t be able to take care of her anymore. Worse still, her mum might not be around the next time something like this happened.

Zaidee herself had expressed that concern to Joy when they were at the hospital together. She asked for a chat with Joy in one of the waiting rooms, and what she had to say broke Joy’s heart.

“She’s going to need someone for a few days when she gets home,” Zaidee said, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to help her much.”

Zaidee already appeared small, slightly hunched over in a wheelchair that swallowed her. But in this moment, she looked totally diminished. Joy had tried to imagine what it must feel like to be unable to help your child when she was in this situation, but she couldn’t manage it.

“I don’t want to overstep, but I would be glad to stay with Theresa as long as she needs me,” Joy said, hoping she wouldn’t offend. Zaidee’s relief was palpable.

“If it’s an imposition, we can make other arrangements,” Zaidee said earnestly.

“Not at all. I’d be happy to help.”

And so she did. Joy could tell Theresa was hesitant at first, not wanting to trouble anyone, but came around to the idea when she realized how much it would help her mum’s peace of mind. Now Joy could see how much this was affecting Theresa as she watched tears pool around her eyelids.

“I know she wishes she could be here. She’s lovely. I’m really glad I got to meet her even though the circumstances aren’t ideal,” Joy said, carefully choosing her words so she didn’t upset Theresa more.

“She is lovely,” Theresa said with a smile. “She’s really glad I’ve met someone so wonderful with such a caring family.” Theresa looked up at Joy, tears still in her eyes, and Joy could see how grateful she was.

“Well you’re stuck with us now because we’re all quite fond of you,” Joy said, trying to bring some levity.

“I’m glad to be stuck with all of you,” she said with a chuckle and sipped at her tea.

“Especially a certain young man. I wish you could hear the way he talks about you.”

Theresa immediately blushed, and the tears in her eyes reappeared. “I don’t know what I would have done without him here the other night. He made the decision to take me to A&E. And he took such good care of me.” Theresa trailed off, getting choked up near the end. Joy could feel a lump forming in her own throat. Her sweet, carefree boy had turned into a loving and mature man, and she was proud.

“He’s a special one, and he’s crazy about you.”

Theresa was still emotional, looking down at her lap, so Joy filled the silence.

“He was just telling us about how well you’re doing in the city. He’s really proud.”

“He’s been so supportive,” Theresa said with a smile.

“I know you’ll both be glad when he’s finished with school,” Joy said, remembering how much it had troubled Philip to be away from Theresa.

“I hate being away from him, but we’ll manage until he’s done. I do miss him, though.”

“And I know he misses you. Distance is hard, but I suspect you two will make it through stronger.”

“I think so, too,” Theresa said, smiling brightly.

_______________________________________________________________

“Did you get enough to eat?” Joy asked, reaching around Theresa’s shoulder to grab the empty plate.

“I did, and I can help with those dishes,” Theresa said, reaching out for the plate in vain.

“Don’t worry about the dishes. I can take care of it,” Joy said with a knowing smile. They’d been through three days of this, and Theresa was growing impatient with her own helplessness.

“You’re worse than Philip,” Theresa joked, pushing herself up and out of her chair.

“Yes, well, he learned it from somewhere,” Joy said with a wink, carrying the dishes into the kitchen.

Theresa followed Joy into the kitchen where she stood by the counter so they could chat while she did dishes. This had become a routine of sorts for them. Joy knew that Theresa was warm and kind, but the past few days revealed even more about the girl she was sure her son would marry.

“I can finally shower now,” Theresa said sheepishly. “Not that I’ve been counting down the seconds or anything.”

“That is tonight, isn’t it.” Joy said, remembering the instructions from the doctor.

“And not a moment too soon. I’m not crazy about you seeing me like this, but Philip is coming tomorrow, and this,” Theresa gestured around her body, “might make him reevaluate our future relationship.”

“I think you’re stuck with him no matter how long it’s been since you’ve showered,” Joy said through a laugh. “As soon as I finish this up, I can help you get sorted.”

“I can probably manage it on my own, but I may need help reaching my towels in the linen closet.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help with anything else?” Joy asked, worried Theresa might overdo it.

“I think so,” Theresa said, sounding slightly unsure of herself.

“Well if you do need something, you can always call. I’ll go get that towel,” Joy said with a warm smile.

She followed Theresa through to the linen closet and pulled a towel and a flannel from the top shelf while Theresa got some fresh clothes. Joy carried all of it into the bathroom and laid it out neatly on the counter.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help with anything else in here?” Joy said, turning to face Theresa.

“I’m sure. Thanks, though,” Theresa said with a smile.

“All right. Well I’ll be right out there if you need me.” Joy slowly backed out of the bathroom, giving Theresa another chance to ask for help. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t happen, so she closed the door behind her.

Joy tried to busy herself with tidying up the kitchen. She’d been cooking extra so Theresa wouldn’t have to bother with it after she left. Philip would be in in the morning, but he’d be no help to her in the kitchen. She smiled at the thought, remembering his incessant phone calls she’d received while he was trying to make dinner for his and Theresa’s anniversary. He’d been so nervous about it for weeks, but managed relatively well except for the undercooked risotto.

Joy heard the water turn off and fought the urge to run back and offer help again. She’d tried to show restraint over the past few days, not wanting to make Theresa uncomfortable. She walked down the hall so she could hear in case Theresa called for her. She heard the faint sounds of Theresa struggling slightly with her clothes, but she didn’t ask for help. Finally, she heard the door knob and decided to run back to the kitchen so Theresa wouldn’t think she was hovering.

“Joy?” Theresa said tentatively, rounding the corner into the kitchen.

“Hey, love. Everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine. I was just wondering if you could do my bandages?”

“Oh! Of course!” Joy said, excited that Theresa had finally gotten to the point of asking for help with this task without a pained look on her face. The first time had been painfully awkward, and not to mention painful, for Theresa. They started out the week with Theresa being reluctant to accept a cup of tea from her, so Joy considered this a success. She followed Theresa to her bedroom and collected the bandage materials.

Theresa pulled up her shirt to reveal an incision in her lower abdomen, and looked down at it with a frown.

“This already looks much better,” Joy said, trying to reassure her.

“It’s going to leave a scar.”

“It’ll fade with time, love. It’ll barely be noticeable.”

“Do you really think so?” Theresa asked, sounding almost childlike.

“I really do,” Joy said with a half-smile.

Joy took a last look at the incision to make sure there were no signs of infection before carefully covering it with bandages. She’d gotten much better since her first go at this, and she stood back for a moment to admire her work.

“All done!” she said happily. “I think I’m getting better at this.”

“You’re a good nurse,” Theresa said, looking down at the bandages before readjusting her shirt.

“Is that everything you need?”

“Well… I was going to ask… I don’t think I can dry my own hair and if I,” Theresa paused and fiddled with the hem of her shirt, “If I don’t dry it, it will look weird… for tomorrow.” Joy understood what Theresa was getting at, and had to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling.

“I could do that for you if you’d like?”

“You don’t mind? I’ll look a bit of a mess regardless, but…” Joy interrupted.

“You’ll look lovely. I’ll go get a chair so you can sit.”

Once Joy got Theresa settled, she gently combed the knots out of her hair. Theresa appeared stiff and uncomfortable at first, but much to Joy’s relief, she relaxed into her chair. Joy thought about all the times she’d done this for her own children, and Theresa’s mum came to mind again.

“You know, Philip has always loved having me play with his hair. From the time he was very little.” Joy had taken full advantage of Philip’s absence to share every embarrassing anecdote she could think of. 

“I think he’s still fond of that,” Theresa said, her cheeks turning pink.

“Yes, well he better enjoy it while there’s still hair left to be played with.”

Theresa laughed. “He’s told me about his fear of baldness, but I’m not concerned.”

“All right. We’re all ready to go. Let me know if it feels too hot?”

Theresa nodded her head slightly, and Joy flipped the switch on the side of the blow dryer. She made passes over Theresa’s hair, combing it out as she did. Theresa looked totally relaxed, and Joy celebrated internally that she’d gotten Theresa to let her guard down. When she judged it sufficiently dry, she flipped the switch and began to assess her work.

“What do you think?” she asked, looking at Theresa’s reflection in the mirror.

“It looks so much better,” Theresa said, reaching up to touch her hair. “I almost forgot what it looked like when it was clean,” she quipped, running her fingers through it. “Thank you, Joy.”

“Of course, dear,” Joy said, smiling at her. “Now how about we find something to watch on television before bed?”

“That sounds perfect,” Theresa said, pushing herself carefully out of her chair. Joy returned the chair to the dining room table and joined Theresa in the living room. She took what had become her usual spot on the opposite end of the sofa from Theresa and noticed her nervously turning the remote in her hands.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, worried Theresa might be upset.

“Oh. Yes. Everything’s fine.” Theresa looked down at her hands and back up at Joy. “I just wanted to say again how thankful I am for you. Having you here has made this so much easier for me and for Mum, even though I know I’m not the best patient,” she said with a slight smile.

Joy thought for a moment, making sure she chose her words carefully. “I’ll always be here, Theresa, no matter what. That’s something you can count on.” Joy knew that so much was uncertain in Theresa’s life right now, and she needed things that were constant to hold onto. Philip, of course, was one of those things. But she was losing her mother, and Joy felt the need to protect her. Theresa was strong, but she still needed support.

“I know,” Theresa said, clearing her throat to steady her shaky voice. “That makes all of this so much more bearable.”

Joy reached over to pat Theresa’s hand before grabbing the remote and turning on the television. She didn’t want to dwell in the moment for too long. She didn’t want Theresa to get emotional or uncomfortable. She wanted her to know that she would always have a mum to go to.


	18. Chapter 18

Philip pulled his arms tighter around Theresa. He could hear her breathing, soft and even, and he cherished the sound. They’d started with the intention of watching a show together, but as the moments passed, Theresa snuggled closer to him, eventually laying her head on his chest and falling asleep. He lowered the volume on the television and gently pulled a blanket around her to make sure she was resting comfortably.

“I love you,” he whispered, softly placing a kiss in her hair. He knew she couldn’t hear him, but since the nightmare of watching doctors wheel her back for surgery, he didn’t feel like he could say those three words enough.

He focused again on her rhythmic breathing, the slight movements associated with her lungs filling with air and emptying again. He felt his chest tighten, suddenly overcome with how precious she was to him.

___________________________________________________

Theresa felt herself fade slowly into consciousness. She felt… warmth all around her. She didn’t want to open her eyes yet, but she stretched out her arm across… someone? Her eyes peeled open slowly, and she looked down to see the familiar torso of her boyfriend. It took her a moment to process, but she finally remembered the ambitious plan they’d made to watch something on television. She must have fallen asleep straight away because she didn’t even remember what they were watching. His arms tightened around her, and she closed her eyes again, feeling totally relaxed and safe with him. She drew in a deep breath and reluctantly pushed herself up slightly.

“Hello, love,” he said softly. She rubbed one of her eyes and looked at him with the other.

“How long was I asleep?” she asked, her voice sounding quite groggy.

He pulled his arm up to look at his watch before using that same hand to brush her hair behind her ear.

“About an hour.”

“You could have woken me. I didn’t mean to occupy your chest,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder again.

“I was more than happy with the arrangement,” he said, running his fingers softly up and down her arm. She tilted her head up slightly so she could look at him, and his blue eyes met hers. She stretched up slightly to kiss him but felt a tightness in her lower abdomen and pulled back quickly.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, sounding panicked.

“It’s fine. You’re just going to have to come to me,” she said with a smile.

“I can do that.” He leaned down to kiss her, and she reached up and tangled her finger in his hair to pull him closer to her.

“Your mum was a good nurse, but I’m starting to see the advantages of having you here.”

He chuckled and placed another kiss on her nose. “How about something for dinner? I could heat something up that Mum left. I would cook, but you only just got out of hospital.”

“Your cooking isn’t that bad,” she said with a laugh.

“Yes, well it’s not that good either,” he said, pushing himself up off the couch. He leaned back down and kissed her again. “I’ll be back with something to eat.”

“I could help with…” She was promptly cut off by an intense glare from him. “Or I could sit here and let you do it,” she said, holding her hands up in the air.

“That’s more like it,” he said, kissing her forehead and heading off to the kitchen.

Theresa stretched her arms over her head carefully before settling back into the couch. She was so glad that Philip was back. She always missed him, but something about all of this made it even more intense. When he’d first gotten there, he’d been afraid to touch her, afraid to hurt her.

“You can hug me, love,” she’d said, reaching out and sliding her arms around his waist. He’d wrapped her up in a huge hug, and she melted into him. They stood that way for a long time while he gently rubbed her back. Since then, he’d stayed extremely close to her, always a protective arm around her waist or a hand on her back. He was always affectionate, but this was different. It felt like he was trying to make sure she was there, that she was okay.

“Here we go,” he said now, walking back into the living room with a tray. “This looks much better than anything I would have concocted.”

“Well you still heated it up, duck. I’m proud of you.”

He puffed out his chest and handed her one of the plates on the tray. They ate, mostly in silence, and he placed his free hand on her knee. He took care of the dishes and refused to let her help, and when he returned, she snuggled into his side and tucked her legs in, resting her head on his shoulder again.

“Do you need anything? Or want anything?” he asked, running his fingers softly up and down her arm.

“I just want you to sit right here with me,” she said, patting his stomach. “Also, I’m a little cold. Is that blanket around here?”

He chuckled and pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and over her. “Better?”

“Perfect.”

They sat in silence for a while. He played with her hair, and she could feel herself getting sleepy again.

“Theresa?”

“Hmm?” she said drowsily.

“Are you asleep?”

“No. Was there something you wanted to talk about?” She tilted her head up slightly.

“I was just… thinking about… finding you here.”

She sat up more so she could make eye contact with him.

“I was so scared. And watching you go back for surgery.” He paused and shifted slightly, tightening his arm around her. “I guess what I’m saying is it made me realize just how important you are to me.”

She smiled at him but could tell that he wasn’t finished.

“And I should have gotten you to the hospital sooner. I should have seen how much worse things were for you from the beginning.”

She was a little shocked that he would see what he did as anything less than amazing. “Oh, Philip, that isn’t your fault.”

“It is. I could have gotten you there before things got that bad.”

She reached up and brushed his hair back, letting her hand rest on his cheek. “Philip, you were wonderful. Even I didn’t know it was something so serious. Nobody could expect you to.”

“I guess I just felt sort of helpless.”

“Philip you’ve already do so much when almost anyone else would have gone running for the hills at the first hint of all this mess. It’s unpredictable, and we’ll have to figure things out as they come. But you have been amazing, and none of this is ever your fault.”

He took a moment to think before leaning down to kiss her. “Are you feeling better? Is everything healing?” he asked, leaning his forehead against hers.

“I feel a lot better. I’m still a little sore, but it’s not bad. But I…” She paused to think about how she wanted to continue. “There’s a big scar… from the surgery.” She’d spent a lot of time over the past couple days looking at that scar. Different lighting, different angles, it didn’t matter. She hated it, and she worried about what Philip might think when he saw it one day.

“Is it painful?”

“No… but it’s not great to look at,” she said, feeling a lump form in her throat.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re not worried that I’m… that I would be…” He was struggling to find the words, so she cut him off.

“You already have so much to put up with from me. I’m a mess, and now I have this weird scar and… I feel silly, but I keep forcing you to accept all these things about me. It’s not fair to you.” She rushed through the last part, feeling her voice crack slightly on the last word.

“You’re not forcing me to accept anything. I love you, Theresa. All of you. And that scar is just a little part, but it’ll always be a reminder of how strong you are.”

“But,” she said, before he leaned in and cut her off with a kiss.

“I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiled and laid her head back on his chest. “Good, because I feel like I may need to occupy your chest again for a nap.”

“Fine by me,” he said, kissing the top of her head. He pulled the blanket up over her and wrapped his arm around her tightly. She could feel her eyes getting heavier until she finally dozed off to the sound of his heart beat.


	19. Chapter 19

Philip picked up his pace on the way back to his flat, as a cool breeze cut through his jacket. He’d been in the library all day studying for exams and he was tired, hungry, and desperately missing Theresa. He hadn’t seen her for weeks that felt like an eternity, and he probably wouldn’t see her for another eternity. They’d barely even had the chance to talk on the phone since he’d gotten so busy, and all he wanted was to hear her voice. They’d planned a phone call before dinner, and he was running a little bit late. He pulled his collar up around his neck and jogged the rest of the remaining distance.

He fumbled clumsily with his keys, his frozen fingers refusing to cooperate. When he finally got the right key in the door, he pushed it open and ran in. He dropped his bag on the floor and threw his coat on the coffee table on the way to the phone. He was rubbing his hands together to warm them up when he noticed the delightful smell coming from the kitchen. Was someone there? Cooking in his flat? He walked slowly through his living room into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks.

“Theresa?!” he half shouted, running across the kitchen to wrap her up in a huge hug. “Wh… how… what are you doing here?” he asked, struggling to form a complete sentence. He was so excited to see her, and before she had the chance to answer, he kissed her.

“Umm…” Theresa said with a chuckle.

“Sorry. I’ll let you answer.”

This time she kissed him, and he felt like he needed to pinch himself.

“I missed you, and I knew you were stressed, so I thought I would come make dinner for you,” she whispered. “I don’t want to stress you out more by taking up your study time, but I thought we could at least eat together.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. It was one of the rare moments in his life when he was totally speechless.

“So,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him, “is that a yes to eating dinner together?”

“Yes! I can’t do much more studying tonight, so maybe we can eat together,” he pulled her closer, “and maybe some cuddling.”

“I guess that would be okay with me.” She smiled at him and patted his chest. “I made that pasta you liked from that restaurant we went to…or my approximation, anyway,” she said, gesturing to the food on the counter.

“It smells amazing. I haven’t had much good food recently, so I’m very excited.”

“That won’t do,” she said, reaching out to pat his stomach. “I figured you hadn’t been eating well, so I made dessert too.”

“I love you so much,” he said, leaning in to kiss her again. “Not just because you made dessert. I really needed this… and you.”

She looked down with the shy smile he’d grown to love, and his heart swelled.

“Well,” she said looking back up to meet his eyes, “we should eat before this gets cold.”

He smiled at her subject change, knowing she could only take so many affectionate words before she changed the subject. Sometimes he liked to push her so she knew it was okay to be the center of attention, but for now, he took a moment to appreciate something that was so uniquely Theresa.

They ate and talked and held hands when they didn’t need both to eat. He could feel the stress of the week melting away with every passing moment. They talked about his plans for the long break he’d have from school after he finished his exams. Most of it would be spent with her in London. They’d planned to spend some time around the holidays together, and he was excited to have time to spend with her free from worries about school.

“I’m very full,” Philip said, leaning back from the table and poking out his belly.

“I’m glad,” she said, laughing as he patted it dramatically. She stood and reached for his plate.

“You did all this. I can do the dishes,” he protested.

“No, I am here to take care of you for a change. You can just relax and I’ll do these.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You wash and I’ll dry,” he said resolutely.

“Deal, but only because I don’t want to be even a room away from you right now,” she said leaning down to kiss him. He grabbed the plate out of her hand and placed it on the table before reaching for her waist so he could pull her onto his lap. He put his right hand on her cheek and tugged her closer with his left. Her hands went immediately to his hair as she leaned into him slightly. He wrapped his arm more tightly around her waist, and she pulled back slightly, a smile spreading across her face.

“We should probably go do those dishes,” she said, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“I suppose, but that doesn’t sound like as much fun,” he whined, leaning up to kiss her one more time before she stood. It was just as well, he thought, to make sure they didn’t have a repeat of their last embarrassing scenario. She grabbed his hand and pulled him up from his chair, and he followed her into the kitchen carrying their dishes.

They made quick work of the washing up, despite the periodic moments of… distraction. They decided they could safely spend some more time together before she had to drive back to her parent’s house. He certainly wasn’t ready for the evening to end just yet.

Philip sat and pulled the neatly folded blanket from the back of the sofa. He lifted her legs to drape them over his own, and wrapped the blanket around both of them. He put his arm around her and tugged her closer into his side. She let out a contented sigh, and he felt her relax into him, her arm snaking around his torso.

They talked, mostly about what he needed to do to finish up the semester, and she listened patiently, providing reassurance when she could. He felt so much calmer when she was there. Something about her presence and her steadiness comforted him.

“You know, things are a lot better when you’re here,” he said, placing a kiss in her hair and tightening his arm around her.

“I’m sort of fond of your company too,” she said, looking up at him.

“I mean it. I can’t wait until all of our evenings are like this.” He worried immediately that he was being too serious, too forward. Her playful expression changed to a thoughtful one.

“That’s a nice idea,” she said, a soft smile spreading across her face.

“One day, we’ll be able to have dinner together every night. It’ll be a normal part of the routine,” he said as if he were realizing all of this for the first time.

“And will cuddling be a part of that routine as well?” she asked with a coy smile.

“Oh. Certainly. The most important part.”

“I like the sounds of this routine,” she said, leaning up to kiss him. “But you have to pass your exams first,” she said with a cheeky grin.

“Oof. That was a particularly cruel interruption of my very successful attempt to pretend those weren’t happening”

“Sorry,” she said, kissing him again, “Just think bout the routine again.”

He leaned his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes. “Okay. I’m thinking about it again.”

“Good,” she said, laying her head on his chest.

They sat in comfortable silence while he mindlessly ran his fingers up and down her forearm.

“I love you,” she said, without moving or looking up at him. That phrase didn’t have the same novelty that it once did, but the novelty had been replaced with a special type of familiarity and comfort. Hearing it made him feel safe and secure and excited about their future together.

“I love you, too.”


	20. Chapter 20

Theresa walked quickly down the stairs and around the corner, following Philip’s path through the crowds of people. She carefully stepped over the small gap and onto the train as the voice on the intercom let them know they would depart soon. She tucked herself into a corner near Philip as more people continued to fill the small space. She looked up at him.

He was surveying the crowd of people around them, his cheeks and ears slightly pink from the cool air they’d been walking through. As it turned out, it wasn’t the best moment for her to be caught up in staring at him. She felt the train jerk below her feet, and she totally lost her balance, falling forward into him. His arms immediately went around her in an attempt to steady her, but she ended up pushing him backwards into the wall.

“Gosh. Sorry,” she said with a chuckle.

“No need to apologize, love,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her and smiling. He kissed her forehead and helped her to stand up straight. “I guess you could say you’ve… fallen for me?” he said, with an exaggerated wink.

“Philip…honestly,” she said, rolling her eyes and smiling.

“Not my best, huh?”

“No, but I’ll allow it because you look very handsome right now,” she said, reaching up to tuck a bit of his scarf back into his jacket. His cheeks turned a darker shade of pink, but this time not because of the cold.

They got to their stop and walked back out into the cold night air. Theresa smiled at the sight of the festive Christmas market with tiny stalls and lights overhead. There was a group of children singing Christmas carols and people making their way through the crowded streets. It was a perfect night, only made more perfect by the fact that Philip was there with her. 

“I think I could use something warm to drink,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. She took the opportunity to tuck her hand into the bend in his elbow and tuck into his side.

“There should be something around here. Hot chocolate? Tea? Mulled wine?” His eyes lit up at her last suggestion.

“Let’s have some wine! I haven’t had any yet, and I really love it.” 

“That sounds perfect.”

They secured their warm drinks and sipped at them as they walked from stall to stall in the market. Philip stayed close, occasionally placing a hand on her lower back or leaning in to kiss her temple. He’d been even more affectionate than usual since her surgery and since they now spent so much time apart. She’d always been opposed to public affection, but she found that it didn’t bother her quite so much with him.

“The tree is up there,” she said excitedly, pointing out its location. “We should go see it.”

There were more carolers singing near the tree, and people were gathered, some singing along. Philip pulled her into his side, and she melted into him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest as he hummed along softly. She sighed and closed her eyes, perfectly content to stand in his arms under the lights and listen to Christmas carols forever.

“It looks like something’s going on over there,” he said, snapping her out of her haze.

“Hmm,” she said, reluctantly prying herself from his warmth.

She looked up to see a large group of people standing in a circle around… something? She couldn’t see.

“Let’s go see,” he said, tugging at her hand. As they got closer she could hear the crowd murmuring. “I think someone is proposing,” he said, standing on his tip toes to see. She got closer and craned her neck to see a young man down on his knee, ring box in hand.

“You’re right. Oh that makes me nervous,” she said with a grimace.

“Why?” he asked with a laugh.

“What if she wants to say no and all these people are around?”

“There’s always a risk of that, I suppose,” he said, chuckling softly. “Hopefully he fares better than that.”

They looked on. waiting nervously for a response, when a round of applause broke out in the crowd.

“Phew. She said yes,” he said, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow.

“This is a really romantic spot, except for the hordes of people looking on,” she whispered to him.

“So I guess it’s safe to assume you aren’t a fan of public proposals?”

“Well everyone’s different. She probably loved it, but I would want it to be more private.”

“Interesting… I’ll make note of that,” he said casually. She felt her chest tighten at the comment even though he seemed totally unphased. Had he been thinking about proposing?

She’d always fancied herself above all of the fantasizing about someone proposing to her, but ever since their first date, Theresa had periodically caught herself thinking about what it might looks like if Philip asked her to be his wife. She felt ridiculous, but she couldn’t really help it. She’d already made a tentative schedule in her mind for them, and could already picture what their wedding day might look like. She felt her cheeks flush, and she scolded herself internally for being silly… but the image of him down on one knee with a ring box in hand forced its way into her mind.

“What do you think about heading back to your flat? It’s getting colder, and I wouldn’t mind cuddling up on the couch before it’s time for bed,” he said with a big grin.

“Sounds good,” she said, still slightly caught up in her own thoughts.

———————————————————–

“Do you want tea or hot chocolate?” she asked, peeking her head around the wall in the kitchen.

“Hot chocolate if it’s not too much trouble. Yours is the best,” he said, sounding adorably child-like. “Don’t tell Mum I said that.”

“I’m flattered, and that can be our little secret,” she said with a wink. She turned on the stove and gathered all the ingredients she needed, but the topic of proposals was still lingering in her mind. What did he mean when he said he’d make note? Was he already planning something?

“This looks great,” he said, placing his hands on her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“We’ll have had so much sugar by the end of tonight. Neither of us will be able to sleep,” she said, leaning back into him.

“You say that now, but you’ll probably be snoring on my chest before you know it.”

“I do not snore!” she exclaimed, turning to give him a stern look.

“Oh… right. You do not ever snore. My ears were mistaken,” he said with an innocent look, leaning down to kiss her shoulder. “And you definitely never drool a little bit. No sir.” 

“I’m seconds away from withholding my hot chocolate,” she said with the most threatening tone she could muster.

“What I meant to say is that you’re so beautiful when you sleep. Like an angel from above.”

“That’s more like it,” she said, turning so she could kiss him. “I think this is ready.”

She poured some hot chocolate for each of them, and they cuddled up under a blanket on the couch. The only light in the room was from the small Christmas tree she’d put up in her apartment, and she let out a contented sigh at the perfection of the evening.

“This is so good,” he said between big gulps of the warm drink.

“You’re going to get a stomach ache,” she said, patting his stomach.

“It’ll be worth it.”

As they sat silently, enjoying each other’s company, the thought of him proposing wriggled its way back into her brain. Would it be so bad to ask? He’d brought it up casually, so maybe it wouldn’t be uncomfortable if she did? She braced herself.

“Philip, I was thinking about earlier,” she said, placing her hot chocolate down and sitting up so she could look at him… and see the hot chocolate mustache he now had. “You have… there’s… chocolate on your lip,” she said, trying to stifle a laugh and hide her frustration with the distraction from the conversation she’d just worked up the courage to have.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said, furiously wiping at his mouth. “I guess I was a little too excited about the hot chocolate.”

“Perhaps I should give the two of you some time alone?” she said, gesturing at his mug.

“Perhaps later.” He raised his eyebrows at her suggestively. “Now what were you thinking about?” he asked, turning to face her and gently brushing her hair behind her ear. Nerves washed over her under his gaze.

“I was thinking about earlier… when you said you’d… make note of me not wanting a public proposal.”

He nodded but said nothing, and she felt her cheeks getting warm.

“I was just thinking, well… wondering, actually, if you’d thought about…”

“Proposing?” he said, sounding a bit nervous.

“Not right away or anything, but I just wondered if you’d… thought about it?” Her heart was racing. She didn’t want him to feel put on the spot, but the look on his face told her he did.

“Well… I haven’t thought about it in detail. I want to marry you, but I need to finish school and get a job and a flat first.”

“Of course. You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked,” she said, wishing she could take her question back.

“No, sweetheart, that’s all right. I’ve definitely thought about marrying you, but it might be a little early to have everything figured out?”

Thought about marrying her? She thought back to the last time they’d talked about marriage, before her surgery, and he’d sounded much more certain then. Had something changed? “You’re right,” she said, forcing a smile even though she didn’t feel much like smiling.

“And when it is the right time, I will make sure it’s just the two of us,” he said, leaning down to rest his forehead on hers. “And maybe some of the hot chocolate?” Both of them laughed softly, and she craned her neck slightly to kiss him.

“I have to admit, I’m getting a bit jealous of the hot chocolate.”

“Trust me. You have nothing to worry about,” he said leaning down to kiss her more deeply this time.

They cuddled back up and she rested her head on his chest, but she felt decidedly less relaxed this time with a nagging feeling that something was off between them.


	21. Chapter 21

“Is this right?” he asked, staring down at the onion he was mutilating. Theresa had given him a simple task of dicing onions, but he’d managed to make a mess of it.

“You’re… getting there. Just try to make them a little smaller,” she said turning her focus immediately back to her task.

She’d come to visit him for the weekend in oxford. It was their first weekend back together since before Christmas, and he’d missed her terribly. He’d spent the holidays with his family, but it felt like something was missing. She was missing.

But now that they were together again, something felt a little off to him. She’d been even quieter than usual and a bit distant. He thought it might be the stress of getting back to work, but she hadn’t mentioned any problems over the phone. Then he’d considered that she might not be feeling well and didn’t want to tell him and spoil their weekend. And finally, worst of all, he’d thought that she might have cramps again. But he didn’t want to push her for an answer…

He finished his chopping and walked over to see what she was doing. “Can I help with anything else?” he said, placing an arm around her waist and kissing the side of her head. He felt her tense slightly at his touch, and his chest tightened.

“I’ve got it from here,” she said with a thin smile. She turned away and continued methodically chopping and combining ingredients. “This should make a lot, so you can keep some and have it during the week.”

“That’ll be great, love,” he said, smiling at her in hopes of snapping them out of this awkward rut. He placed a hand on her lower back, and she pulled away again, looking up at him briefly and back down at the counter.

“We should really finish this.”

It was so unlike her to behave this way, and it made him worry. He knew something must be troubling her, but he wasn’t sure what or how to find out.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Theresa carefully placed the newly washed plates into the cabinet. She turned off the tap and leaned against the counter. Philip was putting away silverware, and she watched him closely as he carefully stacked the forks and spoons in their proper places. She desperately wanted to know what he was thinking, and had since the last time they were together, since he said he’d thought about marrying her… The lack of certainty in his words hadn’t bothered her at first, but as time passed and she played them over and over in her mind, she grew more and more worried.

She tried to talk herself out of it, tried telling herself she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t get the thought out of her mind. Were all the difficulties she faced starting to wear on him? Was he second guessing their future together? Her mind had been running non-stop with questions, but she knew she shouldn’t ask him, shouldn’t question his devotion to her.

“Should I put a kettle on, darling?” he asked, placing a hand on her arm. Her chest tightened at the touch, and she turned quickly to face him.

“That might be nice,” she said quietly. She met his gaze for a moment, but quickly looked down at her feet.

“Theresa… are you… is everything all right?”

Theresa felt her face flush, and she looked back up at him. “What do you mean?” she asked sharply.

“I just… You’ve been acting… a bit different. I was wondering if you were feeling well.”

“I feel fine, Philip,” she said, reaching up to fiddle with her necklace.

“If you’re not, you can tell me.” she couldn’t listen anymore, and she cut him off.

“Sometimes I wonder if I _should _tell you,” she blurted out, turning away from him again.__

____

____

“Wh…What?” He circled around to face her, and she felt her eyes start to sting. “Theresa, you can tell me anything. You know that.”

“I’m not sure I do,” she said, barely above a whisper. His only response was to stare at her in confusion, so she continued. “I just wonder if you’re starting to get tired of… everything.”

“I’m not tired of anything, sweetheart,” he said, shaking his head.

“Something’s changed… since my surgery, hasn’t it?” She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms.

“Changed?”

“Philip, please just be honest with me,” she pleaded with him. “You think of me differently now. I can tell.”

“Theresa, what are you talking about. I honestly have no idea.”

She drew in a deep breath. “Ever since the surgery, it’s like you’re constantly thinking about it when we’re together. I can tell by the way you look at me.”

“How am I looking at you?” he said, with a hint of frustration.

“Like something’s wrong with me,” she snapped, “And I can’t bear that, Philip.” Her voice cracked, and she paused. “Perhaps it’s for the best.”

“What’s for the best?”

“That you’ve changed your mind about marrying me.” She almost felt light headed with all of the emotions stirring inside her. A mixture of nerves, sadness and anger welled up as she watched him formulate a response.

“How can you say that?” he asked with an incredulous chuckle. “How could you possibly say that after everything.” She could see that he was angry, and it made her furious.

“I don’t hear you denying it,” she said, her voice slightly raised.

“I refuse to dignify such an absurd notion with a denial.” She started to speak, but he spoke over her. “I’ve said and done everything I know how to show how much I love you, and nothing seems to be enough. You still don’t believe me,” he said, beginning to pace. “It’s _insulting_ to be questioned over and over when I’ve given you no reason to wonder what my intentions are.” 

__

__

__

__

“No reason? When we talked about marriage before the surgery, you sounded so certain. But after, you ‘hadn’t thought about it in any detail’. You don’t think that’s a reason?”

“No I don’t. You’re twisting my words to fit your bizarre idea that I’m constantly looking for a way out of this relationship. It’s exhausting, Theresa.”

The word “exhausting” rattled around in her head, and she felt her stomach turn. “Exhausting,” she repeated aloud, “I’m exhausting?”

“That’s not what I said. You’re doing it _again _!”__

__“It is wh…”_ _

__The sound of his telephone ringing caused both of their heads to turn, and he let out a irritated huff. “I should get that, I suppose,” he said, stomping over and pulling the phone from the receiver._ _

__“Hello,” he said, frustration still obvious in his voice. But, the features on Philips face slowly started to soften. She looked on, curious about what the person on the other end of the line must be saying._ _

__“Wh…which hospital?” he stammered, giving her a strained but apologetic look._ _

__Her heart sank. Her mum. Something had happened to her mum._ _

__“We’ll be right there.”_ _


	22. Chapter 22

Philip pushed the door open and allowed Theresa to blow past him into the hospital. They’d gotten the first bus they could find tickets for, and the ride there was painful. He’d wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be okay, but he wasn’t sure if he could and he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Instead, he grabbed her hand and she leaned her head on his shoulder until they made it to the station.

Now, she was walking with a purpose, and he had to focus to keep up with her. She was following the signs to make it to the right place, and after a few turns they made it to the reception desk.

“Hi. I’m looking for Zaidee Brasier?” Theresa asked, nervously leaning into the desk.

“Are you family?”

“I’m her daughter,” she said curtly. He could detect a hint of frustration.

“Right. She’s the second to the last door on the right here.” The nurse gestured down the hall, and Theresa took off in that direction.

“Thank you,” he said to the nurse before following Theresa down the hallway. He could see her dad leaning against a wall and realized that Theresa had picked up her pace to get to him.

“Dad!” she said, running to him and throwing her arms around him.

“Hi, love,” he said, wrapping her in a tight hug. “The neurologist is in now. They’re doing some tests, but it seems like a relapse. A bit worse than they’ve been before.”

Philip thought back on what she’d told him about relapses. It could be anything from confusion to loss of coordination, and it could be mild or quite severe.

“How bad? What were the symptoms?” she said, stepping back and crossing her arms.

“It started with vision problems, and her hands were numb. She started having trouble eating and drinking, so I thought it best to come in.”

Theresa nodded and shuffled her feet as she processed all of the information. “Can I talk to the neurologist when they’re finished? I think I have a few questions.”

“Of course. I was hoping you’d be here to talk to him. You’re good with questions.” Hubert looked up at him and stuck out his hand. “Philip. I’m glad you’re here,” he said, sounding totally sincere. It was a departure from their usual banter, and it caught him off guard.

“I’m glad I could be here,” he said, looking over at Theresa who was smiling at them. He could see in her eyes that she was worried, and all he wanted to do was hold her and reassure her that everything would be fine.

The door to the room opened, and a man who he assumed was the doctor walked out.

“You must be Theresa,” the doctor said reaching out to shake Theresa’s hand, “I’m Dr. Andrews.” Theresa gave him a confused look, and he smiled. “Your mum was telling me about you, and I recognized you straight away. She’s very proud.”

Theresa smiled, and Philip could see her blinking rapidly. She was trying not to cry, and it broke his heart.

Theresa, Hubert, and the doctor started discussing things, and Philip took in the scene in front of him as awe washed over him. She was so on top of things. He knew how involved she’d become in her mom’s health, but watching her take charge of the conversation with the doctor was something else. He was simultaneously proud of her and sad that someone so young had no choice but to be well versed in the relapse symptoms of MS.

The doctor shook both of their hands and went off down the hall, and Theresa gave Philip a shy look.

“I need to run home for a few things if you’re okay here, Theresa?” Hubert said, looked up at Theresa for confirmation.

“Of course. They’re bringing food by in a bit, but I can handle that.” Theresa gave Hubert a kiss, and he was off. She turned back to Philip and let out a sigh.

“I’m going to go in and talk to Mum.”

He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you want me to go in with you? Or go find you some tea or coffee?”

“A coffee would be lovely. That way I can get her settled,” she said with a soft smile. She’d worked so hard to seem composed, but he could see the signs of worry.

He nodded and reached out to grab her hand. “Whatever you need, Theresa.” Her guard slipped a bit, and she squeezed his hand back. The tension from their fight was still there, but he couldn’t help himself: he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered before he went in search for coffee.

It turned out to be a more complicated task than he’d anticipated, but with the help of some nurses, he finally found something that passed for coffee. He found his way back to the room, and as he stood quietly in the doorway, he could hear Theresa talking with her mum. Theresa had a cup of fruit in hand, and it looked like she was helping her mum eat.

“Do you feel like you can eat some more?” Theresa asked softly.

“Maybe another bite.” Zaidee, her voice sounding strained. She looked especially weak and tired propped up in the hospital bed.

“Good,” Theresa said, getting another spoonful and feeding it to her. _She’s amazing _, he thought to himself. She just selflessly and without complaint took care of everything. He decided it might be time to make his presence known, so he stepped into the room and cleared his throat.__

__“I found something that is alleged to be coffee,” he said passing on of the cups to Theresa._ _

__“Thanks,” she said, taking it from him and taking a sip. Her immediate grimace made him chuckle._ _

__They sat together and chatted with her mum as much as she was able. Philip could tell Zaidee was having trouble forming some words, and Theresa had to keep giving her water. Every time she struggled with a word or paused in the middle of a sentence, he could see Theresa tense, and it broke his heart to watch. He forgot sometimes how much stress she was under, but she always handled herself with so much grace. He thought back to their earlier exchange and felt a wave of guilt. Had he been too harsh with her?_ _

__“How’s everyone in here?” Hubert said, walking into the room with them._ _

__“We have caffeine and mom did a good job of eating,” Theresa said, winking at her mum who smiled back._ _

__“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, pulling up a chair beside them. “I have everything I need to stay here for the night if you two want to go back to the house for a while to get some sleep?”_ _

__Philip thought it sounded like a good idea, mostly because he knew Theresa had to be exhausted, but he took his lead from her._ _

__“Are you sure you don’t need me here?” she asked her dad earnestly._ _

__“I’m sure. You can come back after you’ve had some sleep.”_ _

____________________________________________________________________ _

__Theresa closed and locked the door behind them. A mostly silent trip back to her childhood home had given her some time to ponder how she should proceed. She wanted to clear things up with him and resolve the conflict… even if it meant having her fears confirmed._ _

__“Tea?” he said, giving her a hint of a smile. She nodded in response, realizing how nice that sounded. “Right. I’ll go put a kettle on. You should go sit for a while. I know you’re tired.” His arm moved to reach for her, but he hesitated and returned it to his side. Her eyes stung with tears she’d been keeping in all night, but she refused to let that happen right now._ _

__She found spot on the couch and settled in. Suddenly comforted by her familiar surroundings, she noticed just how tired she really was. She had to fight it, though. They had to talk this through before she could really rest._ _

__“Do you want it black?” he asked, leaning his head around the kitchen wall._ _

__“Yes, please.”_ _

__He nodded and retreated to the kitchen only to return a few moments later with two cups full of tea. She tucked her legs underneath her and reached out for her mug._ _

__“Thanks for this,” she said, watching as he took a seat beside her and settled in. They sipped their tea in silence for a while, and she thought about how to restart this conversation with him._ _

__“Philip can we…” she started, stopping when she realized she didn’t know how she wanted to continue. “I think we should… talk about… everything.”_ _

__“Theresa, it’s quite late. Wouldn’t you rather we discuss in the morning? I know you’re exhausted.”_ _

__“Well we’re both tired, but I’d like to clear this up now if you feel up to it,” she rushed out, feeling her throat tighten at the admission that she was tired. “And I realize this isn’t very fair to you with everything happening with Mum, but don’t feel like you have to hold back… or anything like that. I want you to be honest.”_ _

__He looked down at his lap, seemingly taking in what she was saying. A few moments of silence passed between them before he finally looked back up at her._ _

__“I just… I can’t understand how you came to the conclusion that I don’t want to be with you.” He sounded more hurt than angry this time, and it made it even more difficult to proceed. Speaking in anger was much easier than this. He looked like he wanted to continue, so she let him. “I love you and I have loved you from the start. I don’t know what else I can do to convince you.”_ _

__“The last time we talked about our future, you seemed so much… less sure than you had in the past. And you were so attentive and…careful with me. It felt like something had changed.”_ _

__“As for what I said about marriage, it meant nothing. I was a bit caught off guard by the conversation, and I didn’t mean to trouble you. I’ve intended to marry you since the night of that first Christmas ball,” he said, staring off across the room. “And as for things changing after your surgery,” he paused, sounding a bit like he was on the verge of tears, “I’ve given it some thought and you’re right. Something did change. I realized exactly how much you meant to me.” He turned to her and took her hands in his. “Watching them wheel you away… hearing the doctor say you _should _pull through. It was the most terrifying night of my life.” He bent down to kiss her hands and continued. “If I’ve been looking at you differently it’s not because I think something’s wrong with you. It’s because I know now exactly how precious you are to me.”___ _

____Her eyes were stinging now at the realization that she’d so totally misunderstood him. He seemed so earnest, but the nagging feeling that he couldn’t possibly still want to marry her remained._ _ _ _

____“I just… I feel like all of this has to be wearing on you, Philip. And I can’t stand the idea of you sticking by my side to be noble… In spite of everything. I wouldn’t want that for you.” She pulled one of her hands away to rub her eye and stop a tear from falling._ _ _ _

____Almost from the moment she’d received a diagnosis, the thought of any future husband growing to resent her for her condition had plagued her. Conversations with doctors about her reproductive prospects had always been laced with the implication that she’d have a hard time finding someone who would accept her in her current state. After years of hearing them, the doubts had become a part of her. And now that she was so deeply in love with Philip, it pained her to think that he might eventually grow tired of dealing with it. It pained her to think that he could, after years of insisting he didn’t mind, decide that he wanted a wife who could give him children. Above all, she wanted him to be happy, and she worried that she could never truly give him the life he wanted._ _ _ _

____“I don’t understand, sweetheart. There’s nothing noble about it. I just love you and want to be with you,” he said emphatically. “What can I do to make you believe me… or what have I done to make you doubt me?” His tone softened when he looked up at her._ _ _ _

____“Nothing!” she exclaimed, finally giving in to the emotion that had been threatening since the conversation began. “You’ve done nothing wrong and everything right. You’re so kind to me.”_ _ _ _

____“Then what,” he reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, “is giving you these ideas?”_ _ _ _

____“I… It’s always been implied that anyone who, on the off chance, decided to marry me would have to do so at great personal expense. They might have to give up the chance for children. Then my mum got sicker, and I became an even bigger mess. It’s not anything you’ve done or not done. I just find it hard… to imagine anyone _wanting _to marry me.”___ _ _ _

______Silence filled the space between them again. He looked totally stunned, his brow furrowed with confusion. She felt her cheeks flush thinking about the embarrassing admission she’d just made, and she looked down at her lap. This had always been her own personal hang up, but now it was out in the open for his scrutiny._ _ _ _ _ _

______Philip reached out and placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head up slightly and looking into her eyes. “Have people said that to you?” he asked, anger practically dripping from his words._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Not in so many words, but it’s been implied… heavily and repeatedly.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______A pained expression appeared on his face, and he tangled his fingers in the hair on the back of his head. Silence took over again, and she felt the need to reassure him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You never made me feel that way,” she said, reaching over and gently placing a hand on his knee. He took it and kissed it, holding it tightly between his own._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m so sorry, Theresa. I didn’t even think…”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You couldn’t have known,” she all but whispered._ _ _ _ _ _

______He took another moment before reaching out and pulling her into a hug. She wasn’t sure at first, but she soon felt herself melt into him. She buried her face in his neck and allowed herself to be comforted by his arms. His hand made slow and steady passes up and down her back, and he kissed the side of her head between whispers that he was sorry. She slowly but surely collected herself and when she felt like she could continue, she pulled away from him, keeping a hold on one of his hands. He took in a deep breath and let it out._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” He scooted closer to her and placed his free hand on her leg. She nodded at him, not wanting to interrupt. “I love you. I am totally and completely in love with you, and I have never for a moment considered any alternative to spending the rest of my life with you.” He paused and studied her to make sure she was listening, so she nodded again to let him know she was. “This condition you’ve had to live with and the comments people have made… I can’t imagine what it’s been like, but I’m not doing this in spite of anything. I want you and whatever comes along with you. All of it has made you into the wonderful, kind, and loving person you are.” He reached up and placed a hand on her cheek. “Nothing noble. Nothing I’m giving up. I’m the lucky one in this arrangement.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Something clicked in her brain. In spite of everything, all of the drama and heartache she would inevitably heap on him in their life together, he earnestly considered himself lucky to be with her. And that was, after all, what love was supposed to be. She’d seen that in a very personal way as her mum’s illness progressed. Each and every day her father had displayed totally selfless love and care for his wife. And at the end of the day, it didn’t create resentment or tension. He still worshiped the ground she walked on because he truly loved her and that wasn’t something that could be shaken by circumstance. And that, she finally realized, was what she had with Philip._ _ _ _ _ _

______It took a moment for her to sort through all of her thoughts, but when she finally made sense of everything she realized he was waiting for her to say something. The fact was she didn’t have the words, so she pulled him to her and kissed him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You understand?” he whispered before leaning in to kiss her again. She nodded and wrapped her arms around him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m sorry I’ve made this so difficult.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m sorry I was cross,” he said, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb._ _ _ _ _ _

______“And I’m really glad you were there with me tonight,” she said, patting his leg and sitting up straight. “I feel so much calmer when you’re around.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well I’m always going to be around. No matter what.” He looked over at his watch and back at her. “It’s getting really late and I know you wanted to get some sleep before we go back to the hospital.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______She grabbed his wrist and checked the time, letting out a heavy sigh when she saw how late it was. “I could use a nap. Even if it’s just for a couple hours.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Do you want me to use the guest room?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Maybe both of us could sleep in there?” she said, searching his face for a response. “I know that didn’t go well the last time, but I’m so exhausted. There’s really no risk of anything untoward going on,” she quipped, rubbing at her eyes._ _ _ _ _ _

______“And I can keep my pants on this time,” he said, eliciting a laugh from her._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I would appreciate that. And I really don’t want to be away from you right now.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He leaned in and kissed her again before they set about getting ready for a short sleep before they returned to the hospital. When she walked into the guest bedroom, she found him resting on top of the covers with his back against the headboard._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You’re looking mighty comfortable,” she said, tossing an extra blanket at him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I would be even more comfortable if you were with me.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______She crawled into bed with him and under the blanket he was holding up for her. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his side so she could rest her head on his chest._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Is that going to be warm enough for you?” he asked, pulling the blanket around her._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Mmhmm,” she murmured, wrapping her arm around his torso and turning her head so she could place a kiss on his chest._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I love you,” she said softly, tightening her arm around his waist._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I love you, too,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of her head._ _ _ _ _ _

______She’d always loved to hear him say those words, but now she felt like she really understood what he meant. She let herself relax into him and it wasn’t long before she was resting in the arms of the man would always love her, no matter what._ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
